To Love A King
by Ceara Einin
Summary: I couldn't shake the feeling I was missing something. Someone terribly important. Who was I forgetting?
1. Prologue

**The sequel at last! ;) I started working on this the moment I finished To Dance With A Prince, but I had to work on To Love A Thief a bit since it'll take longer to complete. I for one am extremely excited for this story, the sequel to my first-ever story on FFN! I was surprised and delighted that I didn't get any flames for that one, so that was just another incentive to get to work on this one.**

**Hopefully To Love A Thief will get uploaded soon, StarryNyte and I are working on it now. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update this one since I'm kind of writing two stories at once. Enough of my incessant babbling, enjoy!**

**And a note: if you're re-reading this, don't freak at the changes. My muse just recently made a major come-back, so the plot got a little changed around, and I had to make a few adjustments.**

**Oh, and I almost forgot...disclaimers, how I love thee! *cough*not!*cough*  
>I do not own Narnia in any way, shape, or form...I'd need a genie for that to happen.<strong>

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

The timbers of the ship groaned under my feet as the _Dawn Treader_ slowly made port, her royal purple sail no longer billowing forward with the wind. A huge crowd had gathered to welcome their king and the crew home after their long voyage, the joy unmistakable on their faces. Maybe it was strange that this joy had no effect on me, but then again, maybe not - it's not every day you make a decision like the one I'd just made.

A soft breeze blew my hair in front of and across my face as I allowed a single tear to escape my eyes and trail down my cheek. It didn't seem so bad right now; he wasn't anywhere near me – he was with her. I suppose I was right, that night I dreamed of him with someone else. Intuition really doesn't lie, does it?

My ears picked up the sound of boots walking across the deck, toward me. I didn't even have to look to know who it was - I knew the sound of his footsteps better than I knew the sound of my own heartbeat. Why did he do this? Why torture me like this? Why did he continue to seek me out, though I'd made it quite apparent I had no interest in talking anymore?

I stood ready to disembark the minute I could, but I was afraid that minute wouldn't come soon enough. I didn't want to talk with him anymore, we'd done plenty of that and the only thing he'd wanted to discuss was things I had no desire to. My will was hardened by having to grow up long before I was ready back home, and I'd remained as stubborn as ever. My secrets were my own, and my past was my burden to carry; mine alone, and no one else's. I know it's supposed to be easier if you tell someone about bad things that happen to you, but some things aren't meant to ever be told. Or if they are, it's years afterward – not mere months later.

Finally, the gangway was in place, and I stepped off the _Dawn Treader_ without a moment's hesitation just as the boots came close enough that he could have reached out and touched my shoulder had I stayed put. But I wasn't a good girl anymore – I was stubborn and alone.

"Laurah? Laurah!"

I heard him calling for me, but I wasn't going back. Half of me wanted to desperately, the other half knew better. And so I set my jaw and began making my way through the crowd as quickly as I could without it being obvious that I was on the run. I was careful to not draw attention, and I'd gotten rather talented at avoiding it when I wanted to back at the place I'd used to call home.

My body was small and wiry, smaller than ever since I hadn't felt like eating in days, allowing me to slip through the masses of people with relative ease. Most of them were so focused on the return of the _Dawn Treader_ that they didn't even notice me squeeze past them. I made sure the tears trailing down my face were silent, holding in any sobs with a will I hadn't felt in a long time. A hysteria was beginning to creep through my veins, a hysteria that put the agony I'd felt so long ago after dreaming of leaving Narnia and my sprite family to shame.

I didn't look back, though he was still calling my name. My eyes were focused on the forest, the last place I could turn to, and nothing else. Healing seemed to linger inside the safety of the trees, a healing I desperately needed. Fighting off the urge to let myself break down, I tried to shove the events of the voyage out of my head, but to no avail. They tormented my mind, taunting me with the memories, so many memories. Of a mist as deadly as it was crafty, of a past I'd forced myself to forget long ago, of falling for one I could never have. _She_ was better for him; she was a better…friend to him than I could ever have hoped to be. How could I have been so foolish? How could I have hoped to mean anything to him? How did I ever think he might love me? So many questions plagued my thoughts, giving me no peace from the agony that now throbbed as constant as my heartbeat. The crowd was beginning to thin out a little and I could now break into a jog. His voice began to fade away as I went faster and faster.

My feet pounded on the cobblestones and my arms pumped at my sides. I ran past a baker's shop, the sweet scent of freshly-made bread wafting out, but holding no comfort for me. I ran past the tailor's shop, vibrantly colored fabric flashing in my peripheral vision. I ran past the blacksmith's, the heat from the furnace inside briefly wrapping around me as I raced past. I ran and ran, not even noticing what I passed now. The comfort of the trees was close.

I ran as fast as I possibly could, momentarily noticing that his voice had faded away altogether as I tried to see through the tears blurring my vision. The forest was now nothing more than a blur of brown and green, a phantom that threatened to disappear from the earth. I blinked the salt water out of my eyes, the tiniest fraction of relief twinkling inside me when the forest proved to be real. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as I burst into the trees, going deeper and deeper into the ancient wood. I was a machine now, a machine programmed to never stop, though my body shook with the effort of staying at a full-out run.

My feet began to stumble.

I kept running.

My knees began to give out.

I kept running.

My muscles burned with the need to stop.

I kept running.

My heartbeat roared in my ears, my entire body shook, and my lungs screamed for rest, for air.

I didn't stop.

I ran on all I had left; I ran on will alone. I didn't find strength in love - there was none for me. I didn't find strength thinking of him - he was not mine. I didn't find strength even in myself - I was too torn and broken, my heart shattered on the cold, hard concrete of reality. The only thing I had left was sheer will to reach the one thing I still had: family. I still had my sister, my mother; if I had nothing else, I had them.

I had no idea where in the woods I was, or how long I'd been running. But then again, did any of that really matter? I had lost almost everything; what did it matter if I was two steps into the forest or two thousand, if I'd been running ten minutes or ten hours?

Excruciating pain pulsed though my entire being - pain of leaving him, of possibly never seeing him again. I hated that I still wanted desperately to stay with him, despite knowing we were not meant to be. And so I ran, hoping that desire would fade away just as his voice had. I knew I couldn't run forever, but for now it was the one thing keeping me from completely losing it, from letting go of the cliff I hung on to by my fingernails. I was slowly slipping, but I still hung on to any last shreds of sanity left in me, though the welcoming dark beckoned me into its sweet oblivion. There would be no pain in unconsciousness.

But I still forced my body to its absolute limit, desperate to get as deep within the forest as possible. It seemed that the deeper I went, the farther away the escalating pain would be. I ran until my legs finally gave out beneath me and I fell to the ground, unable to run any more. Almost instantaneously, the agony rushed up and consumed me, leaving me with nothing to do but weep uncontrollably into the leaves. I curled up into a tight, helpless little ball, the ache of a shattering heart vibrating through me, growing and growing until it drowned out all else. How did it all come to this?

Thinking hurt too much, and I slowly let myself fall into the nothingness that promised at least a whisper of respite from the pain of losing the only man I had ever truly loved.

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><p><strong>Okay, I know that was a little depressing, but bear with me. I like to shake things up a bit and keep all you lovely readers guessing. ;) Don't worry if you're confused right now, you're supposed to be.<strong>

**And now you know what to do for an update...**

**Review Review Review!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey, sorry for the loooooong wait, but it'll probably be around 5 days between updates now...School's really picked up, so please bear with me**. **Plus writing two stories at once is a challenge. :P**

**MisguidedGhost21 - I know it was a trifle depressing, I'm sorry...**

**Vanillastar - Aw, thank you! I must admit, it's one of my better pieces of writing.  
>Hm...perhaps, or perhaps not. ;)<strong>

**NymphadoraLupin98 - *nervous giggle* You know how I like twists...;)  
>As for your second review...THANK YOU! That is a pretty important piece you picked up on, you have my congratulations! :D<strong>

**Evy201 - I'm sorry for the wait...But I'm glad you thought it was good! :D**

**Lady Firewing - ...well, tension is key, yes? ;)  
>Aw, don't judge him just yet...<strong>

**eowyninlove - Haha good alliteration there! And all will be explained, but in due time. ;)**

**MCH - Hm, that's a pretty good guess hon;)  
>I'll try to get updates out sooner, but it'll take luck. :(<strong>

**Death x Berry - Haha here's the update, though it's a little late...And thank you, I'm glad you like my work! :D**

**silverglow001 - It's meant to be confusing, but it has its purpose ;)**

**SirIsThatBloodInYourMustache - I know, you almost made me cry! :]  
>Naaawwww, thank you mi amiga!<strong>

**Aaaaand before we get on with another chapter, why don't we have a charming, delightful little disclaimer?  
>I. Do. Not. Own. Narnia. Period. Okie dokie?<strong>

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

A soft breeze whispered through the cool air as the light of the setting sun painted the clouds a vibrant red and orange. The grass in the field swayed softly with the wind and my little flowers grew in abundance. I snuggled closer to Caspian's chest as he wrapped his muscular arms closer around me, shifting me onto his lap. My fiancée kissed the top of my head as I nestled my face into his neck, a slight shiver running through him when I pressed my lips to his skin. Sighing contentedly, I let my eyes drift shut as Caspian's arms held me to him.

"Going to sleep?"

"Hm?" I opened my eyes a little and gazed at him through my eyelashes, lifting my head a little from its perch on his shoulder.

Caspian chuckled softly, the sound humming under my hands as they rested on his chest. I smiled as I laid my head back down on his shoulder, the warm rays of the setting sun shining on the two of us and dancing across my eyelids as I closed my eyes once more. I felt him rest his cheek on the top of my head as his hands stroked all along my back, and I cuddled closer than ever in response, laying one hand over his heart while the other wrapped around his chest.

We'd barely seen each other over the past few days and were finally able to spend some real time together today. Talking wasn't really necessary; we could just sit together and **be**, enjoying each other's presence. Moments like this were few and far between, and we took advantage of them whenever we could.

The wedding was still a few months away; we'd agreed to wait until the current dispute with the Giants up north was resolved. It simply wouldn't do for the honeymoon to be cut short because of a battle, if it came to that. A faint blush crept up my cheeks at that thought; the _honeymoon_. Goodness, I had only just turned 18! Technically a legal adult, by home standards, but still... Oh look at me, the wedding is months away and I'm already getting jitters!

I smiled at my own silliness and inhaled, relaxing into my fiancée. I felt the warm rays of the sun fading from my face and receding behind the horizon, signaling the end of the day. Neither of us moved; we weren't quite ready to go back to the castle just yet. We just sat there together for a little while before deciding it was getting a little late and beginning the ride back to the castle.

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><p>"Gotten rusty on our skills, have we?" Jaystorm smirked at me as the arrow completely missed the target - again.<p>

"Oh hush, it's been a while since I've practiced with this stupid thing." I'd practiced enough over the past year that I'd been able to hit the target more often than I didn't, but it's been a good two weeks since I'd even touched a bow.

"And you qualify that as an excuse?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What I do know is that if you don't shush and let me concentrate, I am going to drop this bow and get my sword, and then we'll see who's laughing!" Even though I tried to keep my voice sounding as formidable as possible, I couldn't stop the smile from cracking my tough-girl facade.

"Tsk, tsk, little sister, threatening your big brother? Who's going to walk you down the aisle?" He playfully shoved me just as I let loose another arrow. I glowered at him at it sailed straight into a tree, a good 5 feet from the target.

"You'll only get to do that if you promise to behave yourself, my dear brother."

"Me? Misbehave? Perish the thought!"

"The only thing that's going to perish is your penchant for practical jokes." One of this centaur's favorite hobbies was finding new and inventive ways of annoying me, usually in the form of some kind of prank. Of course, I always found a way to retaliate, but I didn't want such antics on my wedding day. Jaystorm looked playfully thunderstruck at my comment, widening his eyes to look as sympathetic and disarming as possible.

"But milady-"

"No buts, please."

"Oh fine. But just for that one day!"

"Deal." I smiled and offered my hand, and we shook on it. And so the practice session continued, with Jaystorm taking every opportunity to annoy me like a "proper big brother," and me trying to find new and inventive ways of retaliating. Soon I lost patience with the bow and started off to go get my swords.

"What, giving up so soon?" teased Jaystorm, trotting up beside me.

"It's been a good 2 hours, genius. I'm sick of archery."

"Hm, that does present a challenge..." he hesitated, his face turning into an expression of devious plotting. "Should I go and get your king?"

"Thank you for the thought, but no. I like my moments with my fiancée to be private, thank you very much."

"I leave you guys alone, don't I?"

"Guess again. Remember the last time? You were making a sarcastic comment every two seconds!" I shoved his arm playfully, both of us fighting laughs. That occasion had been rather funny, even from my perspective. I'd been practicing, as usual, when Caspian had shown up. Naturally, we'd been a little lovey-dovey, and my 'dear' centaur of a friend had seen it as the perfect opportunity to get in a little teasing. Every time Caspian even got close to me, Jaystorm would make a little comment, and it wouldn't be an innocent one either. Caspian and I would blush furiously every time, but it was the kind of thing where it was mortifying at the moment, but it was hilarious when you looked back on it later.

"Ah yes, that was a lot of fun."

"Looking back on it maybe, but at the time? A little embarrassing."

"That was the point!"

"You are nothing if not annoying, are you?"

"It took you this long to figure that out?"

"Oh I knew all along, I'm just choosing to voice my theory right now." We both laughed and I picked up my swords - or sais, as I'd learned they were called, the walk having gone quickly from our banter. I couldn't help but smile when I held my sais; they always reminded me of my sister, who'd given them to me. The slender, silver blades ended in a dark handle accented in gold, the color the sun that shone through the trees of the forest. They'd been given to me that night of the raid when I'd first met the sprites, which had been a bittersweet night. It was a night no one talked about much, for obvious reasons.

My thoughts must have shown on my face as I held my sais, because Jaystorm laid a comforting hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. I thanked him silently with a smile, and we both headed back toward the practice grounds, neither of us anxious to recall the events of that night.

The summer sun was still high in the sky, its rays mercilessly beating down on us as we practiced sparring. I'd gotten used to wearing dresses all the time, and it didn't bother me to fight in them anymore. Jaystorm and I were in the middle of a particularly fierce duel at the moment, since we'd each won one already and this was kind of the tiebreaker. I jumped back to avoid a slash aimed at my stomach while blocking said slash with one of my slender blades. The ring of metal clashing with metal rang through the air so endlessly I had trouble remembering a time when the world hadn't been filled with the harsh sound, and I pushed myself to fight harder so the match would be over soon and I could hear the birds chirping in the distance.

So the practice session continued, until the sun began to sink on the horizon. Both Jaystorm and I were exhausted, and we headed back to the castle as the day came to a close.

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><p>"Daddy?" I took a hesitant step toward the drunken man stumbling around toward my dad's beat up car. The man was tall like my dad, bulky like my dad, had olive skin like my dad, had black hair like my dad. I knew what my dad looked like, and this man - he was definitely him. He couldn't even walk straight and his grey eyes were glazed over.<p>

"Daddy..." I called out to him just as I'd used to when I'd been a little girl, and I fought tears as I cautiously walked up to him; he was walking so slowly that I caught up quickly. He didn't seem to hear me, but whenever he was like this, he usually didn't.

Wobbling drunkenly as he tried to stand still, my dad fumbled with the car keys, but dropped them on the black asphalt of the parking lot outside the bar. I cringed as he spat out a string of foul curses, but I bent down to pick up the keys before he could. He was in no condition to drive, and I was going to do my best to make sure he didn't. Drunk or not, this was my father and that fact alone demanded that I do something. The whole thing was a little ironic though; isn't it usually the father who protects his children, not the other way around?

My fingers should have wrapped around the cold metal of the keys, but they didn't. They **couldn't**. I should have been able to pick up the keys, but I couldn't. My hand passed through them like I was a ghost, a specter. My blood froze in my veins as I began to panic. If I didn't get those keys away, my dad would pick them up, and he'd try to drive.

My hands clutched ever-more frantically at the keys, tears of fear, frustration, and confusion streaming down my face. A strangled sob tore out of my throat when my dad's hand closed around the metal things, and somehow he managed to get the car door unlocked. Dread welled up in the pit of my stomach; if he tried to drive like this…he could die.

"Daddy, stop!"

He didn't even hear me – or if he did, he completely ignored my plea.

Thinking fast, my brain somehow figured out that if my hand could go through the keys, I could probably go through the car door. I silently prayed to Aslan as I leapt forward at the door just as my dad started to pull away.

I held my breath as everything seemed to go by in slow motion, the car door coming ever closer to my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, and then a moment later…success! I was in the back seat, and I jerked back against the back rest as my dad slammed on the accelerator.

"Stop the car, Daddy." My voice was a hundred times calmer than I felt. My dad didn't even seem to hear, again.

"Daddy? Daddy! Stop driving! Pull over!" Why couldn't he hear me?

My heart leapt into my throat as I sat up to see that we were in the wrong lane – and were heading straight for a truck. My dad didn't seem to care, or even notice. A horn blared in my ears, though I had a feeling my dad wouldn't even notice this either. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my lips. I could do nothing but stare straight ahead at the headlights of the truck that loomed ever closer, until the blinding white light enveloped the windshield and I heard a loud crash. Before I could even react at all, it all faded away into blackness.

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><p>I jolted awake, my heart pounding in my chest and beads of sweat on my forehead. I hadn't had a vision in a long time; they seemed to serve as warnings more than anything else. But, my dad…it hadn't been about Narnia at all, and that only added to my cause for worry. Why would I have a vision about my family back home – or my dad, rather? I'd chosen to stay in Narnia, it wasn't like I could do anything about it. Or what if I could?<p>

My body was shaking a little and my breath came in short gasps as I climbed out of bed and threw on a robe over my nightclothes. Whenever I had bad dreams, I liked to go out to the gardens; they reminded me of the sprites – my family. I took care to not make a sound as I eased the door open and closed it just as quietly; I didn't want to wake anyone. I tiptoed down the hallway as silently as a cat with only my shadow to keep me company on the short walk to the gardens.

A thin eyelash of a moon shone in the night sky, framed by the many sparkling diamonds of the stars, as I slipped outside to the peaceful serenity of the gardens, the sweet aroma of the flora wrapping me in a cocoon of comfort. I breathed in the cool night air, fresh from the rain yesterday. Goosebumps raced up and down my arms as the chill began to seep past my thin robe into my otherwise bare arms. I was tempted to return to the warmth of my bed, but I didn't want to go to sleep so soon after a vision; I wanted to figure it out now while it was still fresh in my mind. My fingers brushed the leaves of the rosebushes as I slowly walked along the stone pathways, winding my way through a paradise of flowers and trees as my mind began to think over my vision.

First of all, why had it been about my dad back home? I'd chosen to stay in Narnia, so why would I have a vision about home now? After a little over a year here, now a vision about my dad came to me? But then again, visions did seem to follow a sort of pattern: whenever there was a big danger of something, I had a vision about it. That something always pertained to me of course; it wouldn't make sense for me to see anyone else's possible future.

My dad had always had a...drinking problem; or he had for as long as I could remember, anyway. I guess the possibility of my vision actually happening had been there all along, but why did I just now see it? Was I supposed to do something? What could I do, anyway? My dad was, quite literally, a world away, and even if I could get back, I had no idea how I'd stop him from going and getting himself completely wasted, as usual. He never listened to anyone who tried to help him see reason; not me, not his wife, not his own mother, not anyone. My mother, the one back home obviously, had tried countless times to convince him to stay the night with her, with his family. But he never did, he only yelled at her to get out of his way before storming out of the house to the nearest bar or pub, whichever he felt like. More often than not, he spent an obscene amount of money on drinks and I'd always see how close the money was when I did the budget. Naturally, being only a teenager who hasn't even finished Trigonometry yet, I almost always made a few mistakes, and they almost always got me in quite a bit of hot water with my dad, since it meant he couldn't have as many drinks as he wanted.

I'd always hated how no one could stop my dad's drinking, and I always wondered if it would be better for me to not do the budget, since then there would be no money to pay for my dad's constant drunken state. But I always had done it anyway; I didn't want my mom to pay for his mistakes. I'd gotten summer jobs to pay for my dance, but even though I managed fairly well, I never stopped resenting my dad. I still did, but it wasn't as pronounced since I was here now. Even if there was a way for me to go back, did I have the strength to basically confront him?

I was pulled from my rather melancholy thoughts by a warm hand on my shoulder. A ghost of a smile flitted across my lips. I knew that hand.

"Hey," I murmured, leaning back into Caspian's chest. It seemed he was always there when I really needed him. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep. Is something wrong?" he asked, resting his chin on my shoulder. I always loved the sound of his voice.

"Just a dream. Well, a vision actually."

"Of what? It's been a while since you've had one."

I swallowed hard; even though I still held bitter feelings toward my dad, he was still my dad. I turned around so that I was facing him.

"It was about…Caspian, it was about my dad. My dad back home."

Confusion and surprise both made their appearance on his face before he spoke again.

"What happened?"

"He…he…died. He died and I couldn't do anything." Pain pricked at my heart as I spoke the words aloud. My dad had made a ton of mistakes, no arguing that, but I still loved him, even if for no other reason than because he was my dad and my mom loved him. But Caspian understood, wrapping me in his warm embrace to comfort me. My body relaxed into his chest, but my mind still remained in overdrive. There was no question in my mind that I'd had that vision for a reason, and that I was definitely going to do something to stop it from happening some time.

The question was: what would it take?

**Okay, in case you're wondering, yes the prologue hasn't happened. It almost serves as a foreshadowing, or a little trailer for what's to come. ;)**

**And I think we all know what I'm going to say next...**

**Review Review Review! ;)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Yes, before you all scold me for the next few hours, I knew it's been a while since my last update. I would have posted this earlier, but a nice little visit to the ER the other night slowed things down a bit...But all is well now, and I'm sorry for the very long wait. :(**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Are we understanding the prologue a little better now? ;)  
>Oooh, that isn't good, is it? :(<strong>

**Death x Berry - Thank you my dear:D  
>Well, that's actually good news, since that was the purpose of it anyway. :P<br>Ah yes, the familiar pressure to update...good luck to you! **

**Evy201 - Me too, it was nice to write some happy stuff. :)  
>Awww, aren't they? I hope he's still staying in character though, I always seem to have trouble with that...<br>Hm...keep on that train of thought hon', it might be true. ;)**

**MCH - Me? What, tension? ...Nah. :P  
>Oh yes, our dear Laurah is quite the worrier, isn't she? But Aslan doesn't want to cause trouble, that would be a little OOC...<strong>

**Lady Firewing - ...Well, ya know, readers love tension and drama, yes? ;)  
>Random? No. Important and maybe confusing? Perhaps...;)<strong>

**eowyninlove - That would be my intensive English training in description in 8th grade coming through. ;) I'm glad you liked those little lines, I do enjoy throwing in little pearls of description like that.  
>You can say that again! ;)<strong>

**Princess Ariel - Yes I know, I know...I'm sorry, but it's here now! ;)  
>Oh noes! No dying allowed, you little mermaid, you! :P<br>**

**Another disclaimer, probably getting more annoying each time...I don't own Narnia. Clear? Crystal? Good.**

**And here is the next chapter! Once again, sorry about the wait...**

* * *

><p>Chapter 2<p>

The next morning, I woke a little later than usual. The morning sun was shining into my room as the sweet song of the birds wafted to my ears. I stretched my arms above my head and reached toward the end of the bed with my toes, the kinks in my spine from sleeping in a ball disappearing. I sighed contentedly and relaxed into my pillow. Until last night flooded back from my subconscious.

Any happiness I'd basked in moments ago was yanked away, replaced with a gnawing fear and anxiety. I didn't know what to do, I truly didn't. I knew that I didn't want my dad to die, but I also knew that I'd chosen to stay in Narnia back when Aslan had given me the choice. The day Caspian had first told me he loved me.

That was another thing: if I somehow found a way to get home, what would happen to Caspian? How much time would pass here? Would he be dead by the time I got back? Or would I not be able to come back…ever? What would I do then? Live out a life at home…without Caspian…for the rest of my life?

But my dad was family, and I couldn't just sit idle. Perhaps if I'd gone home in the first place, this whole problem wouldn't have come up. Would it have been better to go? Better to have left Narnia? But then, everything with Caspian…None of that would ever have happened. I couldn't imagine not having been with him, not having courted him, not having become engaged to him.

And what if these thoughts were only selfish thoughts? It wasn't about my happiness, not in the long run. What really ends up mattering are the things that one does for other people; that's what really means something. But in going home to my dad, I'd leave Caspian behind, and who knew how he'd take that? I wasn't a fool; he loved me, and I didn't want to be a cause of pain to him. Perhaps he'd understand though; he almost always did.

With that slight reassurance, I sat up and slid out of bed, getting dressed in a matter of minutes. I usually didn't even notice how I looked, but I did notice how long my hair was getting. It had only been a little past my shoulders when I first came here, but now it was almost to my waist. It grew fast.

I didn't want it to get in my way, so I quickly contained it in a braid before heading out to get on my way. I'd just eat once I got there. My slipper-like shoes made hardly any sound on the stone floor of the castle as I headed down the hall toward the stables, where Asha would be waiting for me. She was always there whenever I needed a ride, especially when I went to visit the sprites.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice when I bumped into something warm and solid until that something, or rather someone, put his hands on my shoulders to keep me from hitting the floor.

"Clumsy this morning, are we milady?" A smile was on his lips and his chocolate eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Good morning, your Majesty." I grinned as Caspian brought his lips down onto mine in a chaste kiss.

"Are you feeling better?"

"A little. I guess I'm just a worrier."

"No surprise there..."

I just smiled and shook my head, marveling at how just being around this man could have such a relaxing effect on me.

"Well, if you said there was I'd be tempted to think you don't know me at all."

"I think we both know that is far from being true." Caspian said, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"We do, do we?" I brought my eyes up to meet his, my heartbeat picking up at the sparkle in them.

"Yes, I believe we do." He paused for a second before speaking again. "When are you leaving for the woods?"

"Right about now, actually."

"Ah. Then I guess I have to let you go now."

"Well…you don't **have** to, milord." I cocked my head slightly to the side as his arms tightened around me.

"I think I will though. As much as I'd love to keep you by my side all day, I'm sure your family would miss you terribly."

"No argument there."

Caspian pulled me into a hug before slowly letting go.

"Alright my little sprite, go on."

I grinned and pressed my lips against his for a moment before stepping back.

"I'll be back before you know it."

He smiled as we both stepped away from each other and waved goodbye. I lingered there, looking at my fiancée for a second longer before heading off to the stables.

As I stepped out into the bright sunlight, another familiar face greeted me.

"Hey Jaystorm." I smiled and waved at my best friend, who trotted over when he saw me.

"Hello my dear little sister. Going somewhere?" My centaur friend greeted me with a light punch to my arm like he always did.

"To see my family, actually. Didn't I tell you already?"

"No, you forgot to tell poor little me." Jaystorm tried his absolute hardest to put on a pout, but a smile cracked his face before long.

"Poor little you, huh? Well, now you know. Oh, and you might want to work on your pouting face a little."

"I'll be sure to practice." Jaystorm rolled his eyes good-naturedly and paused to take in my appearance.

"You look tired. Bad dreams?"

"Not dream – vision."

"A vision? But it's been so long since you've had one."

"Well apparently I can still get them."

"What was it about?"

My breath caught in my throat as images from last night flashed through my head. I paused before answering, "My dad. It was about my dad back home."

"Your dad? I thought you only saw things that would happen in Narnia." The confusion was quite evident on his face, but I was just as confused myself.

"Yeah, me too. But no matter why, I'm going to have to do something about it."

"What happened that makes it so urgent?"

I looked down at the ground before meeting the concerned eyes of my friend.

"I saw my dad die."

"You what?" Now Jaystorm had gone from confused to shocked and horrified.

"What will you do?"

I paused a moment, thinking, before I answered, "I'm not sure yet, but definitely something."

"Let me know when you decide, alright?" Jaystorm laid a comforting hand on my shoulder as I nodded.

"I will. Well, I should probably be going now."

"Have fun with the sprites, little princess."

"Always do. Caio!" We both waved and walked our separate ways.

I soon found myself close to the stables, the summer sun already beating down. A smile found its way across my lips when I caught sight of my beautiful Asha already waiting for me just outside the stable doors.

Her creamy mane and tail danced in the gentle breeze and her gold coat shone in the light of the sun. She let out a soft whinny when she saw me and cantered over, her cream-colored hooves seeming to float over the soft grass.

"Hey Asha, it's been a little while, hasn't it?" I held out my hand, palm forward, as she approached me. My horse nickered softly and put her muzzle against my palm, her big golden eyes staring lovingly into mine. I smiled and moved my hand up to scratch her favorite spot on her forelock. She leaned into my hand and closed her eyes, one of her back hooves relaxed so that its top rested on the ground.

We stayed like that a few minutes before I dropped my hand and walked around to her side. Asha knelt down like she always did so I could get on easier and stood up carefully once I was on her slender back. Once I was all settled, I lightly touched her sides with my feet and she eased into a canter, heading straight toward the woods that were my second home.

It was a little cooler under the protective canopy of the trees, and the heat of summer was replaced with leafy shade. Asha stayed at a smooth canter; there was no need to rush. The woods smelled fresh and green, though slightly baked from the heat of the past few weeks. A woodpecker could be heard in the distance, and birds softly chirped from high in the branches.

My hair blew back from my face as Asha cantered on deeper into the forest and towards the sprites and my family. I always looked forward to my visits with them, and they seemed to look forward to them just as much I did. Sometimes Caspian came with me, but he usually had too much to do. It was fine though, he was the king, and so that just meant he had a lot of responsibilities. He had, however, asked Trumpkin to take care of everything for…a little while after the wedding.

Both of us always blushed a little at the thought of how things would be after we were married, but it was probably because we were so young; he was 19 and I'd just turned 18. I'd always thought I'd go to college and get a job before I even thought about getting married, and yet here I was, not even graduated from high school and already engaged. But I didn't regret it for a second, of course.

I was so lost in thoughts of my fiancée that at first I didn't notice we had arrived at my second home, but I snapped back into reality when Asha slowed down first to a trot, then to a slow walk. I rode on until we were in front of my mom's palace, and I dismounted when Asha came to a halt outside the front doors.

Ainslie was already standing outside waiting for me, and she wasted no time in rushing up and engulfing me in a sisterly hug. I smiled and happily returned the gesture, happy to see my older sister.

"I was wondering when you would finally get here, Laurah. It's good to see you." My sister linked our arms together and we strolled inside the palace.

"It's good to see you too. I miss you and mom back at the castle."

"Hey, what about me?"

I turned around with a smile to see my dear friend, Rhoslyn, jogging up to Ainslie and I. We'd met on one of my early visits to the sprites and had become friends almost instantly. She was bright and bubbly, a good contrast with my more pensive nature, but we shared a love of dance.

She had taught me some of the traditional sprite dances and I, in return, had shown her some ballroom. I'd refrained from any Latin dancing, since it might not be entirely appropriate for this world and time period.

We'd also practiced sword fighting and archery together, and I'd improved a bit in the latter from her instruction. But I'd never be a good archer; it was clear all my fighting talent lay in the sword, and even that was only because it was one of my three gifts. Rhoslyn's were picking up foreign languages, archery, and quicker healing than the norm. She could even rival Queen Susan with her aim with a bow.

She knew more about me than almost anyone, with the exception of my mom and sister. They all knew about my life back home, but I'd never told Caspian about much of it. He only knew about that one jerk I'd gone out with so long ago, and nothing else. It was almost like we had a mutual understanding that we didn't talk about it; he never asked and I never offered to tell him.

Mostly, it was because I just didn't like to talk about it, but Ainslie had asked me one day, and with her and my mom there to comfort me, I'd been able to tell them everything. Slowly of course, and over the course of a few weeks, but they knew everything. Everything I could remember, that is.

I wasn't trying to keep my past life a secret from Caspian; I just never saw the need to bring it up. Apparently he didn't mind, or he would have said something to me.

I opened my arms as Rhoslyn rushed up and crushed me in my second bear hug today. We both laughed as we pulled back and formed a chain – myself in the middle, Rhoslyn on my left, and Ainslie on my right.

"So, how's life been at the castle with your fiancée?" asked Rhoslyn, a playful twinkle in her light brown eyes.

"It's just fine, with plenty of romantic moments when we can find the time." I paused as memories from my vision flooded back into my mind's eye. Ainslie caught my hesitation and turned to look me in the eye.

"Is something troubling you, sister?"

Rhoslyn was looking at me too, her expression slightly concerned. My eyes scrutinized the flower-petal floor before I quietly spoke.

"How about I fill you both in once my mom gets here, so I don't have to repeat it?"

"It's that bad, huh?" Rhoslyn furrowed her brow and traded a glance with Ainslie before they both nodded and Ainslie spoke for them both.

"Alright Laurah. She should be coming down any minute anyway."

Just at this precise moment, my mother came into sight as she descended down one of the many spiral staircases of the palace. She smiled immediately when she caught sight of me and hastened forward to greet me. Rhoslyn and Ainslie released my arms so I could hurry into my mother's waiting arms.

"Hello, my daughter. It's wonderful to see you here again."

"It's great to be back." I smiled as we slowly stepped back, my mother's eyes sweeping across my face, reading my hidden distress.

"What is troubling you?"

"Well…" I let out a long and heavy sigh before continuing. And I told them everything.

Every detail of my vision, every conflicted stab of emotion that had followed it. My fears, my love, my still-lingering anger at a father who had never loved me. How I didn't want to leave Caspian, and how I feared I would someday, some time, have to. Because there was no way for me to stay here and save my father. And also because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I simply let my father die, no matter how horrible he was. He was my father, and nothing could change that. Maybe not biologically, but he was the only one I had.

And my mother…I'd always been the one to take care of her, and if my dad died…she wouldn't stand a chance. Although, now that I thought about it, what chance did she have without me anyway? If time had passed there, she could be wasting away already from a hateful husband and no daughter to protect her, to shield her, to keep her living on for one more day.

And therein lay my biggest secret of all, one that I'd never told a soul – not even Ainslie, Rhoslyn, or my sprite mother. It was a secret buried so deep that I instinctively shoved it right back inside the locked box I'd put it in those long years ago when it had happened.

But enough of that; I had no intention of sharing it with anyone, not even the Great Lion himself. Not even my beloved sister, or my dearest friend, or the Queen of the Wood who was my true mother…not even with the man – king – I would marry.

Tears flowed down my face freely as I explained my vision to them, and I accepted their comforting hands that wiped away my tears and patted my back, easing away the hiccups that came with crying.

Soon after I was done and the salty water had finished leaking from my eyes, the sticky tracks of salt on my cheeks and slightly red eyes the only indication of my weeping. If any of them understood I still was holding something back, they made no indication of it.

"Feeling better?" Rhoslyn cocked her head almost cheerfully at me, her trademark lopsided grin on her face to cheer me up. Unable to hold back my own smile, I surrendered to it and nodded, allowing her to pull me to my feet. Rhoslyn was one of the few people who could always make me smile, no matter the circumstances.

I turned to face Ainslie and my mother as they rose from the light, wooden bench the four of us had previously been seated on. Neither of them had to speak their question aloud; I already knew what they were asking.

I didn't need to respond with words either, my still unresolved mind made clear to them with one simple shrug of my shoulders. They both nodded and my mother retreated back up to the throne room where plenty of royal matters awaited her, but only after comforting me once again with the kind of hug only a mother can give.

Ainslie, Rhoslyn, and I all waved farewell as she gracefully left the three of us to enjoy the day together. We were all still for a second before Rhoslyn sprang to life.

"Last one to the meadow has to carry all the stuff back to the palace!" The three of us always enjoyed a little bit of practice in sparring and archery, and today would be no different.

My effervescent friend bolted out the palace doors with Ainslie and me hot on her heels. Our laughter rang out uncontrollably and made us gasp for breath as we tore out of the palace grounds and the surrounding village into the forest, making a beeline for our favorite meadow that served as our training grounds. Rhoslyn was the tiniest of us three, and usually won. But not today it seemed.

I barely had time to catch the mischievous twinkle in Ainslie's dark green eyes before she poured on a sudden – and rather unexpected – burst of speed.

"Wha - hey!" This is all I have breath to gasp out before Ainslie has completely overtaken not only me, but Rhoslyn as well.

The same indignant, disbelieving exclamations issue from Rhoslyn's mouth before the three of us burst into our meadow, panting and out of breath. In a much different order than usual.

Ainslie managed to win this time, and I was…last. I sighed good-naturedly; it seemed the task of carrying the sais, bows, and arrows would fall to me today.

"Well, little sister, it seems **you** have the joy of carrying everything this fine afternoon."

"Yeah yeah, rub it in, you sly thing, you."

The three of us couldn't resist the giggles that bubbled up in our throats, and we all collapsed on the emerald grass of the meadow, the warmth of the sun tickling our faces.

Although I knew there was a lot to decide on in a short amount of time, I let the simple joy of being with Ainslie and Rhoslyn seep into my soul and lighten the burden I held deep inside.

There would be a time for hard and painful decisions; but for now, we could just be happy.

_For now._

**Anxious yet? No? Okay, I'll dial it up more tension next ****chapter**_._** ;) I know, I know, I did it again with the cliffys, didn't I? I'm terrible...but in a good way. ;P**

**And now, for the most wonderful of all 6-letter words (that mean quicker updates)...**

**Review Review Review! ;)  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**I know updates are far apart now, but I'll try to be better about that...School and upcoming exams, ya know? And yes, everything is just fine now, I'm all better. :) Little reaction to some brazil nut oil...it was not pretty. All's well though, despite the fact I think I'm scarred for life from having the IV :P Ugh, never get those things if you can help it people...Thank you for the concern, I was touched. *sniffles* :}**

**Lady Firewing - Well, sort of...but not quite. I have something pretty shocking planned...*devious grin* ;) It'd all about tension, as you so wisely told me. :D**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Yes my dear, more cliffys...There will be probably quite a few this story, so be ready.  
>Thank you:D<strong>

**Red Rose252 AKA Mello the 2nd - Hahaha I always like a little bit of comedy to lighten the mood a little...you know, the calm before the storm? :)  
>Aw, I don't like her sad either...but this story isn't as happy as the last one, so I forewarn you of that now. And sorry for the really late update...:(<strong>

**Evy201 - Love me some good tension...I know, mine too! I feel so terrible:(  
>Thank you, and again, sorry for the long wait...<strong>

**Still don't own Narnia guys, I hope you've figured that out by now...;)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

By the time I got back to the castle, it was already well after sundown. The moon had grown from a tiny sliver to a crescent, but it still gave off hardly any light to see by. If I listened closely, I could hear the chirping of crickets over Asha's hoof beats as I rode into the stone courtyard I'd come to know so well.

I stroked the side of Asha's neck as she slowed to a halt, making sure to ruffle her mane a little like I always did. It was a ritual of sorts. Sliding off my beautiful horse, I walked around to stand beside her head so she could see me.

"Thanks for the ride, Asha. Take care." Before she cantered off, I planted a kiss on her velvety muzzle and she nuzzled my hair with her top lip, just like we always did. And then I was standing on my own in the courtyard, watching her as she vanished into the woods, a smile on my face. It was comforting really – to have the same little ritual even though I knew things were going to change, and soon. I waited until Asha had completely disappeared into the trees before turning and heading inside, my mind still churning with questions I'd been asking myself all day.

Goosebumps skittered their way across my skin as I walked inside the castle. It was cooler in here than it was outside, where the heat of the sun still lingered in the air. My arms were wrapped around my torso to fight the chill, and another pair of arms was encircling them, pulling me against a warm chest.

"You're back." Caspian's silky voice next to my ear sent shivers down my spine.

"Sorry I'm late," I murmured, resting the back of my head on his shoulder. A sigh escaped my lips as I fought to keep my eyes open. It had been a long day; a fun day with Rhoslyn and Ainslie, but an exhausting one as well.

"Tired, my lady?"

"Very." My eyes were halfway closed, but I was determined to keep them open. I didn't want to have the vision again when I fell asleep. But my body had other ideas, and I realized too late that my knees were buckling underneath me. I braced myself for an up-close-and-personal hello to the floor, but Caspian swept me into his arms before I even got close.

I managed to mumble a thank you as my incredible fiancée began to carry me bridal-style down the hall. Breathing in his scent, I let my head rest right over his heart like I loved to do. Its steady beat soothed my stressed mind better than anything else could have. Just being close to Caspian was enough to calm my racing thoughts and make me believe it would all turn out alright.

Too soon for my taste, we reached my room and Caspian had maneuvered me inside. Did he have to go?

He gently set me down on my bed after pulling the covers back and started to tuck me in.

"Do you _have_ to go?" I whispered, my tired eyes gazing into his. He looked a little surprised at my question, and I let my hand wander over to one of his, my white skin standing out in stark contrast to his tan.

"Do you want me to stay?"

I felt a playful smirk flit across my mouth.

"I wouldn't be averse to the idea." I really didn't want to go to sleep; I was afraid of what vision would be waiting for me. "At least until I fall asleep?" I wasn't going to make him stay with me all night, of course.

Caspian leaned down until our foreheads were almost touching, his eyes peering into mine and reading exactly what I was thinking.

"And you intend on falling asleep, do you?" There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, but concern peeped out from behind it. I could tell he knew better than to think I would actually try to sleep tonight. I lowered my eyes so that they were no longer looking into his.

"Perhaps not," I muttered, a little annoyed that he could see straight through me like I was made of glass or something.

He only smiled, and I patted the space next to me. When he hesitated a moment to mess with me a little, I reached up, grabbed his shoulders, and lightheartedly pushed him so that he was on the bed next to me, prompting a chuckle from us both.

We took a moment to get comfortable before Caspian opened his arms and I happily snuggled into his toned chest. A smile crept over my lips as I took in his warmth, curling my arms as he kissed the top of my head. Against my will, my mind instantly flashed back to the first time he'd done that, almost two years ago now. The night I'd seen the raid in my dreams.

It had been one of the first visions I'd had, and the first one where something horrible had happened. Caspian had managed to wake me up, but I'd been sobbing so hard that I'd barely realized it was him, even when he'd taken me into his arms. Sounds cheesy when I think of it like that… but then again, in hindsight, it probably was. But who cares, honestly? I didn't, that was for sure.

Rolling my eyes at my inner dialogue, I just tried to relax, though the thought of sleep kept my heart rate well above what could be considered healthy. If this kept up, I wouldn't get a wink of sleep for the next few days. Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, Caspian pulled me closer, silently telling me that it was okay to sleep, that he'd be right there if I needed a shoulder to cry on…literally.

Against my will and my better judgment, my body began to relax, the hazy fog that comes before sleep settling over my mind. I fought to stay awake, but soon found that my eyes wouldn't stay open.

Unable to win that battle, I turned my attention to keeping my brain awake, keeping myself firmly within the world of the conscious. It was a battle I was losing.

I woke up a little when I felt Caspian shift a little bit. I didn't want him to leave, not yet.

"Hey, don't go. Please..." I mumbled into his chest and snuggled closer, if that were even possible. And just before I unwillingly slipped away into that looming world of dreams, I managed to hear him whisper one word into my hair.

"Never."

* * *

><p>I woke with a start in the middle of the night, my pulse roaring in my ears. I'd been right to try and stay awake; the same vision of my dad had slithered back into my dreams, sending the same questions I'd dealt with all yesterday straight back into the forefront of my mind. My breathing rapid and shallow, I tried to shove the dream out of my head so I could get some more sleep. Dark bags under my eyes didn't look entirely attractive, and tended to make me look more like a zombie-girl than a sprite.<p>

I would have gotten up to walk it off, but I didn't want to wake Caspian. Huh, he was still here...I'd expected him to have gone to his own bed by now. But I was glad he was there; seeing him so peacefully asleep helped calm me down, as did the fact that his arms were still tightly around me, holding me against his warm chest. Being careful not to move too much, I maneuvered so that my ear rested over his heart. It was always soothing to hear it beating steadily against his skin.

Much to my own surprise, I found that I was already starting to nod off again. It crossed my mind to fight it, but at the moment it felt like a good idea. Before I knew it, sleep had claimed me.

* * *

><p>The same pattern followed for the next week. Every night, I saw my father die the same death, and every night I was helpless to stop him. Each time I woke I was more confused than I'd been before, and I began to get incredibly irritable; the worry and frustration of not being able to do anything eating away at me.<p>

I felt bad for being so short of temper, but I just couldn't seem to help it. Luckily for me, I made sure to apologize every time I snapped at someone, which was usually Caspian since he was with me a lot. I swear, the man was a saint; he never got angry with me when I was being cross with him. He tried to talk sense into me, but he always stayed calm and collected...unlike me. And when I apologized, he just gave me a hug and told me it was okay, he understood. And he did, I really think he did.

Jaystorm noticed my irritability, and was smart to make himself scarce around me. Unless, of course, there was sparring to be had; he was more than happy to help me vent a little. But it was getting so bad that even my little white flowers couldn't cheer me up. Nothing could.

At the moment, I was awake in the middle of the night, having had that vision of my dad...for the seventh night in a row. It kept replaying against my will, making peace and calm a thing of the seemingly distant past. What could I do? **What could I possibly do?** This question was driving me almost to the point of insanity. If not for Caspian's constant comfort, I wondered if I'd have gone stark raving mad by now. I was approaching that point as it was.

I found that as I looked at my fiancée's face, he was looking back at me, the now-common stamp of concern in his features. He already knew why I was awake at this hour, and he also knew that there was little to be done other than just staying silent and holding me. Which is exactly what he did. It made me feel a trifle better, but my body still remained tense and on edge, much like my mind. I'm sure he noticed, but he was wise enough to not say anything. He knew it couldn't be helped.

Right now, sleep seemed like the best idea. I only ever had the vision once in a night. Once it woke me up, the rest of my sleep was deep and dreamless. And so I let the comfort of Caspian's arms lull me back into the world of slumber.

* * *

><p>This place was familiar. Very familiar. I knew these off-white walls with the light brown stain over there in the corner where my dad had thrown a cup of iced tea in a fit of rage. I knew these windows with the strange, pale blue curtains that looked at least as old as my grandmother. I knew these light wooden chairs around the kitchen table that were protected with a simple, chocolate brown tablecloth my mom had bought when I was 14. Chocolate brown had been all the rage that year.<p>

Both the dogs were napping on the sofa that sat in the family room across from an old TV. Dad had always ranted about wanting a flat screen, but we just didn't have the money for that, though I kept my eyes on any sales. Jack was curled up into as small a ball as his sausage-shaped body would allow, and I could hear his gentle snoring. Gus, on the other hand, was stretched out like always, his round stomach reminding me of a pregnant sow.

There was a figure dressed in black standing across the room from where I was. I didn't recognize the shape at first, but I could make out soft weeping. The figure was hunched over and seemed to be a woman. As I listened to the woman cry, it occurred to me that she seemed familiar.

Afraid of what I'd find but determined to know who this woman was, I hesitantly began to walk toward her. My eyes caught a familiar sight; this woman was wearing my mother's shoes - my mother from home. She'd had those shoes for as long as I could remember.

The black leather pumps were slightly faded from years of wear and the slender heels had lost some of their black right where the bottom pad connected with the actual heel. The shoes were much like any other pair of pumps you might find in the '80s, but I knew these were my mother's shoes. I'd memorized exactly what they looked like as a child; Mom had always loved to wear those heels to work, before they got all the wear and tear. There was a tiny streak lighter than the rest of the shoe across the tip of the right toe from when she'd tripped going up the stairs to her office and scuffed away some of the shoe polish. She would have fixed it with some polish, but somehow we never got around to it.

My heart sank past my stomach and into the floor as I realized who this woman was.

"Momma..."

She didn't hear me. Of course she didn't. I was a specter; I wasn't really here. I could do nothing. Just like I'd always been able to do: **nothing**. I slowly walked around so I could see her face, hoping against all hope I was wrong. I wasn't.

Copious tears fell from my mother's light brown eyes, downcast in their grief. The salt water had formed two trails down her cheeks, the water coming so unceasingly that her makeup was worn off in the trails. Mascara tinted the edges a smoky black, and the bags under her eyes were all the more pronounced with the ebony makeup to emphasize them.

I wanted to reach out, to take her frail figure in my arms and comfort my mother like I'd done so often before I came to Narnia. Sometimes I didn't even know the reason for her tears, but I never denied her the meager comfort I could give. But this time I had no choice. She wouldn't feel it if I tried to hug her. My heart caught in my throat when she whispered one thing to herself.

"Laurah? Where is my Laurah?"

My heart ached for my mother, for myself even. I could do nothing for her. She needed comfort badly, but I couldn't give it. Dear Aslan, how I wished I could! Was this to be my torture for doing nothing to help my dad? Having to watch this, knowing I was helpless to do a single thing?

Sniffling pitifully, my mother began to plod away toward her room, her head still bowed and her back still hunched over. I felt like I should follow her, but I was too weighed down with my melancholy thoughts to move. She passed right through me like I wasn't there. But I wasn't. Not for her.

My eyes were glued to her sorrowful form as she disappeared into her room, the door softly clicking closed behind her, leaving me standing alone in the family room. I was frozen. Dull pain throbbed with my heart beat, spreading throughout my body in a matter of seconds. This was my fault. If I'd only gone home that day...but then Caspian and I...my thoughts were cut off by a sudden onslaught of fearful panic. I couldn't explain where it had come from, only that it was driving me to the room my mother had disappeared inside of. Something was going horribly wrong.

In a matter of seconds, I was stumbling through the door and into my mother's room, nearly frantic with worry. I'd tried to steel myself, to get ready for what might be on the other side. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

Red. That's the first thing I saw. A pool of dark red on the floor, growing before my very eyes. It wouldn't have been so bad had that been the only thing I saw. It was what lay in the center that made me want to scream, to cry, to do anything but stand there helpless. My mother...

Some strange, strangled sound tore from my throat. What had she done?

There she lay, in the middle of the pool of red. In the pool of blood.

Because that's what it was.

Blood.

Fresh, metallic, still leaking from her body.

From her wrist, more accurately.

My blurred vision caught the cold, cruel glint of a razor blade next to her hand. She looked almost relived, oblivious to the pain she must have been feeling from the unforgiving steel edge.

I couldn't cry. That was far too easy. A strange but welcome numbness was slowly flowing through me. It was like I was beyond feeling anything now.

Just like her.

Except I was alive. I was breathing. I hadn't yet given up.

She had.

And that's the last thing I knew before it all faded away into nothing.

* * *

><p>The first thing I was aware of was screaming. Screaming and crying.<p>

I didn't seem capable of forming a cohesive thought, but I managed to throw myself off the bed. Wincing as the cold stone floor connected with my ribs and hip, I scrambled to my feet as a single clear thought entered my head.

Aslan. I had to find Aslan.

I had barely registered that my feet were running before I was bursting out of my room and flying down the hallway, desperation robbing me of breath long before my torrid pace could. Arms pumping at my sides as the walls flew past, my sudden halt came as a very unpleasant surprise.

I collided with something warm and solid, a pair of strong arms the only reason I didn't land on the floor. Vaguely, I heard a worried voice saying something, but all I cared about was finding Aslan. I couldn't wait a second; I'd surely fly apart into a million pieces if I did.

Using every ounce of strength I possessed, I shoved the thing - or person rather - away and sprang back into my desperate flight, bolting outside within seconds. The bright sun momentarily blinded me, but it didn't slow me. I had no idea where I was going, but I found that my feet carried me deep into the forest.

"ASLAN!" I screamed for the Great Lion, knowing he was the only one who could help. A sharp snap echoed in my ears, and I found that the ground was rapidly approaching my face. Only my hands broke my fall, and a crack sounded from my wrist as searing pain rushed through my entire left arm. Probably a sprain.

I bit back a yelp of pain as I pulled myself to my feet...and almost cried with joy.

A familiar gold light shone up ahead. It was the same one I'd seen so long ago, that night after dance class. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this light would take me home. Holding my injured wrist against my torso to keep it from getting too jostled, I sprinted for the light, catching a familiar face on the other side of it.

"Mom?"

The Queen of the Wood stood there on the other side of the light, understanding clear on her face. She knew. And she was helping me.

"Thank you," I whispered as I walked straight into the golden glow. My eyes closed as I waited.

A moment of silence and then...the ground left my feet and I seemed to be thrown forward at breakneck speed. I opened my eyes to see light everywhere, light the color of the sun. And suddenly, the ground was again rushing up at my face. I groaned in pain as my wrist, along with the rest of me, slammed into the ground.

Slowly, painstakingly, I got to my feet, cradling my wrist in my right hand. My attention instantly flew to my bracelet, however, when my eye caught the slight glow it was emitting. Somehow I knew that was my sprite mother saying goodbye and good luck.

"I love you, Mom," I murmured, my eyes never leaving the bracelet. After a moment, the glow faded and I was left alone in the dark woods.

Now that I was back, my panic had faded, replaced with calm determination. I was here, and now it was my job to save not only my father, but my mother as well. Setting my teeth against another whimper from my swelling wrist, I trudged through the woods and within minutes saw a familiar sight.

I was home.

**...I'm getting the vibe that you would love to reach through your computer screen and strangle me. Mercy? Por favor? No? *hides under computer chair* **

**And for an update, you know what to do...**

**Review Review Review! :)  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 4

**Yes, updates are taking a while, and I do apologize...That's the joy of having 4 major, very important tests coming up. :P **

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Thank you, I must admit it was one of my better ones. Writing depressing stuff is somehow easier...Oh, but about Caspian: cheer up there! Remember those little 3rd person snippets in TDWAP? ;) I might be nice and turn snippets into half-chapters...**

**MisguidedGhost21 - No worries my dear. ;)  
>Um well ya know... I love to keep you lovely readers guessing, don't I? And I know, poor Caspian! *sniffle*<strong>

**Evy201 - I know, I almost cried about that! Poor darling Caspian...  
>Yes, I must admit I do love a touch of depressing-ness every now and then :P<strong>

**Lady Firewing - Yup, you got me! :D Tension, not diamonds, are my best friend.  
>Ooooo, you picked up on that! :D :D You just made my day, now guess who...;)<strong>

**Calyn - Wow, thank you! :D  
>I see what you mean...but I do have a different kind of goodbye planned, so that might make you a little happier. ;)<strong>

**RedRose252 AKA Mello the 2nd - *gulp* I somehow get the feeling that I've merited those torture devices...But remember! You need me alive to write the story! :P**

**eowyninlove - I know right? That's one thing I like about her too, though since I've planned out almost all of this book, I also hate her too...oh dear, I probably shouldn't have said that. :]  
>I know, I feel sooooo sorry for Caspian! I'm so mean to him this book...actually, I'm just mean to the poor guy period! :}<strong>

**Princess Ariel - Yup, I did warn you...Well at least it was a good haunting though! :D**

**Okay, can we all guess what's next? Disclaimer? Very good!  
>Once again I reiterate: don't own Narnia!<strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

There was my basement door, still cracked open for the dogs. There were the dogs, chasing each other around the yard over a stick. It didn't seem as though any time had passed; everything was exactly how I'd left it.

I didn't know if that was a good thing or not; I had no idea when everything would happen, only that it was slated to happen, and I could stop it if I tried. I'd saved Jaystorm's life, why wouldn't I be able to do the same for my parents here?

Twigs made brittle from the cold snapped continuously under my feet as I trod up toward the house, still gritting my teeth as my swollen wrist throbbed. It was painful, but I didn't think it was broken. Even if it was, it was the least of my worries right now.

"Come on, puppies! Inside!" I called, hoping they would listen to I didn't have to come and get them later. The basement door creaked slightly as I swung it open with my good hand, and the dogs were nice enough to obey me tonight. Maybe they could sense something was different, but whatever the case was, I was just happy that they obeyed.

Just as I got inside, I heard the rattle of the garage door opening. Hopefully that was my mother; I hadn't decided what I'd do about my dad. I scurried up the stairs after the dogs, smiling as I saw my mom walking inside. It was a relief to see her...alive.

"Laurah? I'm home!" she called, shrugging out of her coat.

"Hi Mom, ready for dinner?" I ran up and engulfed her in a hug. It had been far too long since I'd seen her.

Pain in my wrist caused me to wince a little, but I tried not to let it bother me much. It really didn't matter right now. But my mom noticed, and held me at arm's length to determine what the cause might be. She looked me up and down and noticed my swollen wrist, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Honey, what happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just uh..." _Ran out of Narnia after dreaming about you dying and was so frantic that I fell and sprained my wrist? _"I slipped."

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry! We better get you to the ER."

Oh Aslan, no! I'd been to the ER once before, when I'd taken a pretty bad fall at dance class and had managed to break both my ankle and my foot. I'd had enough needles to last me a lifetime from that visit alone.

"Oh no, I'll be fine. I'll just make an appointment with the doctor."

"Are you sure? I can drive you-"

"It's fine, really."

My mom hesitated, concern shining in her eyes, before sighing and nodding.

"Alright, but make that appointment A-S-A-P."

"Will do," I chimed, heading for the kitchen. If I was remembering everything correctly, I'd left her dinner in the oven. Strange how I remembered so much about this place after so long in Narnia.

"No no it's okay sweetie, I'll get it." She rushed past me and pointed to the couch, the look in her eye telling me it would be useless to argue. With a sigh and a silent laugh to myself, I obeyed, plopping down on the big cushions. It was just like her to worry about me, even though I was the stronger one. But while she was busy in the kitchen, I had a little time to think about how I'd go about saving my dad's life.

I wasn't sure if talking with him would work; we barely said anything other than the occasional 'hi' as it was. There was just this rift that had always between us, a mutual dislike well-known by the other. Mom tried to get us to get along, but he knew I knew how he really felt about me and Mom, and we never got past that. I still didn't like him very much at all, but I did love him – as my father. Besides that, I knew how much his death would hurt Mom.

Actually, it was a pretty safe bet that if I saved my dad, by default Mom would be okay too. And if she wasn't…then I'd make sure to be here with her until she was. I suddenly felt deep down in the pit of my stomach that I might never go back. Caspian…

I shook my head a little to clear it. There would be a time to think of him, but that time wasn't now. Right now, I needed to focus and come up with some sort of a plan.

I didn't want to get any other people involved if I could help it; that would only complicate things. I wasn't at all sure if my dad would listen to me, but maybe it was the only thing I could do. I certainly couldn't stop him from going out and getting drunk with force; he probably had at least a hundred pounds on me, and he was strong too.

So, first I'd try to talk with him. Reason it out. Leaving out my visions, of course. On that note…would I have to keep everything that happened in Narnia a secret? Could I?

I had to. Anyone I told would think I was crazy, or insane, or something along those lines. I was just lucky that I looked just like I had when I'd entered Narnia. It was too bad my wrist hadn't healed, but I guess time was the only thing that could do that. Just then I noticed something peculiar:

My ring. My ring was still on my hand. The ring that said I was an engaged woman. Unbidden, tears welled in my eyes as the emerald in the center sparkled in the dim light that leaked from the kitchen. I couldn't help but remember that perfect night when Caspian had asked me to marry him. Would I ever get the chance now?

He had to be worried, especially if time was passing there quicker than it was here. I'd left without so much as a goodbye…And I couldn't help but wonder if it had been Caspian who had tried, unsuccessfully, to calm me down earlier this morning. And I'd just shoved him away…

"Do you want me to get you some ice?"

I had to jerk myself out of my thoughts to understand what she was saying.

"Um, sure, that would probably be good for the swelling."

"That's what I was thinking."

"Hey Mom?"

"Yes?"

I hesitated a second before blurting out, "When do you think Dad'll be home?"

There was silence from the kitchen. I waited.

"I don't know, sweetie. Maybe later tonight."

"Right. Sorry for bringing that up…"

Mom appeared from inside the kitchen, her plate in one hand and a pack of ice in the other. A forgiving smile was already on her face as she handed me the ice and tweaked the tip of my nose. She's always done that, ever since I could remember.

"Are you alright, honey? You seem…sad."

_I guess I need to work on my poker face._

"I'm fine, just a little tired I guess."

_And feeling incredibly guilty about not saying goodbye to my fiancée._

"Then why don't you go and get some rest?"

I hesitated, looking at my swollen wrist, before nodding slowly.

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning?" I asked, getting up to give my mom a goodnight hug and kiss.

"Yep. Tomorrow's my day off. You have dance, right?"

"Uh huh. Oh, and Mom?" I'd just remembered something. Something I really didn't want to have to do, but what could I say, really? 'Hey Jake, sorry but I can't go for a coffee with you because I got engaged and even though I might not ever see him again I still am hopelessly in love with him? Oh, and by the way he's not exactly from around here?' Right. Because every girl says that to get out of a casual date.

"I'll be a little late getting home from dance."

"Oh? Why is that?" She had cocked one eyebrow and was looking at me with the utmost curiosity.

"Well…um…I agreed I'd…go out for a coffee…with Jake."

"That boy who's had a crush on you since time began? It's about time he said something!"

"I guess so…" I mumbled, waves of guilt tumbling over me. _Forgive me, Caspian…_

"Oh, just give the boy a chance. Given a little time, I'm sure you'll feel the same about him as he does about you."

_Uh huh. Sure…But it's strange she hasn't noticed the ring._

"Okay, thanks for the advice Mom." We said our goodnights and I scurried upstairs to my room.

I couldn't stop a smile from dawning on my face as I opened the door. Everything was just like I'd left it. The same bottles of lavender and white polish sitting on my desk, the tiny stains left from water marbling spotted about on the wooden thing. My bed was still freshly made and everything short of the polish was in its place – the result of trying to keep busy at all times. That was before Narnia. Before I found that you don't always have to run. That sometimes it's better not to. My thoughts continued to flow as I walked over to my bed and sat down on the sea-themes bedspread.

But back to more pressing matters…What could I say to my dad? I didn't even know where to start, or even what I was trying to say. What did I want him to do, anyway? Well, at least I had an answer for that: I wanted him to not go out and get drunk all the time. I wanted him to spend time with us again. I think most accurately…I wanted him to love my mother. To love me. To love this family. But love didn't exactly come overnight; either he loved us or he didn't. I could only hope it was the former that was true.

So, I think the best way to start would be...well, I'm not sure. Maybe...maybe the best way to start would be to just lay all the cards out on the table, so to speak. Or the ones I could, anyway. Oh, darn it all! Maybe it would just be better to not plan too much, since often it's the words spoken on a spur-of-the-moment that are more heartfelt anyway. I'd have to wait until my dad got back, and until he bore at least some semblance of sobriety. There was next to nothing I could do at the moment. And so, I let myself fall back onto my pillows, my left arm numb from the ice.

With nothing better to do, I risked a glance at my wrist and was relieved to see that the swelling was almost completely gone and the skin wasn't turning any funky colors. I was pretty sure that when I got to the doctor they'd do the same thing they did for Nikki when she'd sprained her wrist a few years ago: slip an Ace bandage on it, ice it for half an hour every few hours for a few days. I'd be sure to head to the doctor though, just in case.

Wait…rats! Dance! It wouldn't be too bright to try and dance with a bum wrist. But maybe I could just try and do it one-armed. At least then Mr. Dougherty would be happy I was trying. But I would need an Ace bandage, just to be safe. I was pretty sure Nikki had an extra one she'd never used.

It took me a few minutes to find my cell phone, since I wasn't sure where I'd left it after calling Nikki…Wow, was it technically only a half hour ago? According to time here? It was so strange to think that while years of my life had passed, here only minutes had gone by. I would have to make sure I didn't talk like the 18-year-old I was in Narnia.

Finally, I found my phone and called the best friend I hadn't seen in two years, or two years for me anyway.

"Yeah?"

"Hey Nikki. I was wondering if you still had that spare Ace bandage?"

"Um, sure. What did you do?"

"Um, well I was running and I fell and I tried to catch myself and my wrist snapped when I did. But it's not broken or anything, as far as I can tell."

"Goodness child, I thought you were supposed to be the more graceful of us two. Why were you running?"

_Oh, if only she could have seen that tree root incident…_

"I uh…felt like it?"

"Smooth Laurah, very smooth. Come on, what are you hiding?"

"Hiding? Nothing."

_Leaving all of Narnia and the engagement ring on my finger out of the picture._

"Uh huh." Nikki let a moment of silence go by before adopting her sternest voice she sometimes resorted to if I didn't want to tell her something. "Come on chica, dish."

"There really isn't much to tell. I was running in the yard, I tripped, I fell. That's it." I was pumping out these little fibs like a freaking vending machine.

"Right, and you just felt like running through your yard like a human Speedy Gonzales?"

"Guess so." She wasn't buying it. Great. Now I had to come up with some plausible cover story. How would I explain the ring on my finger?

"You know you really need to work on your fibbing, right?"

"I know, but could you let it slide just this once?"

"But you've got me curious!"

"I'm sorry…" But it wasn't like I could actually tell her the truth. It'd sound crazy.

"You should be." I could hear the sarcasm in her voice though; it reassured me that she wasn't genuinely mad.

"I am, but trust me okay?"

"Oh alright. But seriously, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"…" How did that make me feel extraordinarily guilty?

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"It'll sound completely crazy."

"Girl, I've known you for years, I honestly don't think there's anything you can say that will shock me."

"Guess again. I'm not kidding about it being crazy. Shoot, you may say I belong in a mental hospital…"

"More than you already do?"

"Wait, where did that come from?"

"Hm, let me think…Oh, maybe you not liking Jake, for instance?"

"It's not that I don't like him, I just don't think of him like **that**."

"Exactly. That in consideration, what else could you possibly say that would shock me more than that?"

Alright, fine. She wants the truth, then the truth she shall get. Big time.

"Oh I don't know, maybe telling you that I'm…"

"What?" She paused a second, but I had a feeling she had something to add.

"Laurah Elizabeth Hendrickson, do **not** tell me you're pregnant!"

_What?_

"No! No, definitely no!"

"Then what?"

"I'm…engaged."

Dead silence. Here comes the storm…

3…

2…

1…

"I beg your pardon?"

_Well, that wasn't what I was expecting._

"Well, you wanted the truth."

"Since when? I haven't seen a ring on your hand!"

"Um, it's very hard to explain…"

"Well start explaining!"

I wasn't sure if that was excitement, hysteria, disbelief, impatience, or a combination of all the above.

"Can I do that in person? I'd rather not do it over the phone."

"…Oh okay you silly chica. But tomorrow, you will give…"

"Answers?"

"Lots of 'em. And I mean until every last detail is explained in detail."

"Details in detail, huh?"

"Yup. And expect to explain the minutes I see you, yes?"

"One tiny problem: dance class."

"Urgh! Then immediately afterward!"

"Coffee with Jake?"

"Argh! Screw the coffee!"

"Wow. Curious, much?"

"And you just figured this out NOW?"

I chuckled to myself, finally realizing just how much I'd missed Nikki, ear-splitting screams and all.

"Pretty much."

"You are infuriating. You know that, right?"

"That's what they tell me! Well, I should probably try and get some sleep, as should you."

I could almost hear Nikki's jaw hitting the floor.

"And since when in the name of heaven above have you gone to bed early!"

"Um, since now? I'm just looking forward to a peaceful night's sleep. They've been rather scarce lately."

"Why? Oh wait…probably part of your big secret…alright, go on before I try and prod more info out of you."

I laughed softly, inexplicable tears welling in my eyes.

"Goodnight, Nikki."

"'Night Laurah. Remember, every detail in detail!"

"Got it. Bye."

"Bye." She hung up and so did I. I couldn't explain why I was crying, but I just buried my face in my pillow to let the tears flow. They weren't sad tears though. My only guess was that I'd missed my best friend more than I'd ever realized.

The salty tears I'd come to know so well over the past week kept on coming, but I didn't feel anything but happiness right now. It was good to be back. There would be plenty of things to worry about, but right now I just basked in the joy of being back. If by some chance I had to leave again, I'd make sure to say a proper goodbye.

_If only I could have done the same for Caspian._

**See, no****t too depressing, right? I've got the angst all stored away for later...:) Yes, I so evil. I'm so mean to Laurah, I really am...**

**And we all know what makes me smile and work harder to update sooner than the two weeks it would be without reviews...**

****Review Review Review! :)****_  
><em>


	6. Chapter 5

**I live! It's been a long time since I've updated, but between the musical and the ACT, I just didn't have any spare time, so I apologize profusely for that. However, I'm afraid there might be another bit of a delay in getting the next chapter up since now I have AP exams coming up next week and the week after to contend with. So, as my way of an apology I made this chapter pretty long.  
><strong>

**I also want to say a Huge 'Thank You' to everyone who's favorited or alerted this story; the alerts are up to 30, which was a very happy surprise. And of course, let's not forget my lovely reviewers! :) 38 reviews for 5 chapters is beyond awesome for me, I can't even put it into words! So just a tremendous thank you to everyone following this story. :D  
><strong>

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Hahaha that's great to hear that you can connect with my characters. :D Oh ya know, we all have those moments of pure insanity ;) I actually had one the other day about this little series: it's looking like a 4th book might be a possibility.  
>And I'm glad you liked the chapter. I'll admit it was a little rough in the writing process, so it's good that it turned out okay. And yes my dear, Caspian snippets are definitely in order. They're actually kinda important for the plot I've got planned in my devious little mind. :]<br>**

**Evy201 - Aw, I'm sorry you're miserable...but it could be worse, right? I could've killed either Laurah or Caspian off. (No worries, I'm not capable of that level of cruelty.)  
>Hm, well read on to find out! ;D<br>**

**MCH - Sadly yes, it was necessary. Don't worry though, you'll hate me even more after Chapter 10 or so. :P *gulp* Why do I suddenly get the feeling that that strangling is in order?**

**RedRose252 AKA Mello the 2nd - Haha well it's always good to hear characters are relatable my dear! :P  
>Oh no, not the dreaded Caps Lock! *hides behind notebook of ingenuity (aka book of my story outlines)*<br>Haha luv ya too!  
><strong>

**Lady Firewing - BINGO! (Hm, interesting mental picture there...:P)  
>Dang, you're good...but poor Jakie-poo, he doesn't know she's engaged...oh well, I'm mean to my characters anyway. :P<br>Yay, I can still keep you guessing! :)  
><strong>

**Princess Ariel - You? What, crazy? Noooooo...:P  
>And thank you my dear. :)<br>**

**MisguidedGhost21 - Oh no hon', not just yet! ;)  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or its characters, I only own my OCs.  
><strong>

**And now enjoy! (Seriously, please do, it's 3:30 in the morning right now.)**

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

My eyes slid open as I was somehow jolted from my deep slumber. At first, I didn't know why I'd woken, but then I heard the slamming of the back door.

_Ah. He's finally home._

I'd wondered when he'd show up…but then again, I was rather surprised he even bothered to come home. After all, didn't he have a grand old time with all his friends as well as other women?

It struck me then how bitter I really was. It surprised me. I'd thought the feelings of betrayal and cynicism had faded with time, that my time in Narnia had made me better than that.

Apparently, I'd been mistaken. I had so little faith and respect for my dad that I wondered why he bothered to come home, why he didn't just live at the clubs. It would certainly save him the time of driving back and forth, wouldn't it?

I knew that wasn't what I really wanted, but I couldn't seem to stop the resentment, the hostility, and the plain anger that bubbled up whenever I thought of my dad. The worst thing was…I didn't really care. I mean, some part of me did I suppose, but I didn't really mind too terribly that I was carrying around all this…this animosity. This hate.

_Too bad sparring isn't exactly an option._

A good duel always helped to clear my head, but obviously swords weren't exactly in abundance here, nor would my swinging of one be taken well. Shoot, I'd probably get landed in a mental hospital.

My thoughts were interrupted rather abruptly by the sound of my father's voice – yelling at my mom. It wasn't anything new; it happened quite often. The odd thing was that tonight…my mother was saying something back.

This had never happened, not as long as I could remember. Each time he yelled, she was silent. She never dared to fight back. Until tonight.

And for the first time in a while, I felt proud of my mom. I was proud of her for not cowering in fear. I was proud of her for standing up to him. But I was also scared. I had no idea what my dad would do in response. And just as I was about to step outside my door, I found out.

I wasn't sure what to think. So I just listened.

He yelled some more. She didn't back down.

I could hear the slight tremor of fear in her voice, but she didn't. Maybe she'd finally had enough. I knew I had. I still wasn't sure what I should do, but just then my dad solved my little problem for me.

Just as I was about to open my door, I heard the heavy stomp of an angry man leaving the room, slamming the door on his way out. I wasn't sure whether to be sad or just relieved. I guess both were okay; it usually got much worse before he stormed out. But my mom was probably sad and depressed.

Once I was sure my dad was gone, I snuck out of my room and into the hallway, with only a small nightlight to guide me. I could make out muffled sniffling from my mom's room, where they'd argued.

A pang went through my chest when I realized that Caspian and I had fought worse than that before. We'd both yelled, though neither of us had reached the volume my dad had. I was lucky; not everyone can say they patch things up so quickly. My parents were living proof of that.

"Mom?" My voice was soft so I wouldn't alarm her. She was spun-up enough.

Apparently, she'd been expecting me. Her arms trembled ever-so-slightly as she opened them, and I wasted no time in rushing in to give her much-needed comfort. Her cheeks were wet with tears as I held my mom the way mothers hold a child to comfort them. Except our roles were switched. I was the comforter, and she was the one crying.

And for some reason, I found myself silently crying with her. It was something that hadn't happened before. I was always the strong one with dry eyes who took care of my mom. So why was I crying now? Then suddenly, I knew.

I knew crying wasn't weakness now. I knew that showing fear, showing hurt, showing love; it didn't mean I was weak. It was okay to feel. It was okay to show it. And right now, I was just crying for everything – everything that had gone so horribly wrong. I cried for my mom, I cried for my dad, and I cried for Caspian. Nothing was as it should be. And I was too tired to try and stop the tears. So I let them slide down my cheeks as I murmured words of comfort to my sobbing mother. And for once, we weren't all that different.

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><p>Caspian ran his hands through his hair for the millionth time. He hadn't seen Laurah since this morning, and he was frantic with worry. The sun was beginning to set, and there was still no sign of her. He'd been coming to find her after she hadn't shown up for breakfast, and when he was on his way to her room she'd come flying down the hallway, in absolute hysterics.<p>

Laurah had been so upset she'd bowled right into him, seeming to not have known he was there until that moment. He'd be so worried, afraid even, to see her in such a state. He hadn't seen her that way in the entire year and a half he'd known her. Her body had been shaking violently, tears coming out of her eyes like an unending waterfall. It had scared him, and that fear combined with deep concern only intensified when she'd shoved him away, after he'd tried to ask her what on earth was the matter, taking off down the hall like the very devil was on her heels.

And when she'd shoved him away, confusion and hurt were added to the mix of emotions boiling inside him. He'd started to go after her, but then he'd thought that she needed time alone, time to become herself again. He knew how she liked to go to the gardens for a moment of solitude after a bad dream or a vision to sort it out in her head. She'd always done quite a bit of thinking. He loved that about her. But where was she?

He'd heard a heavy door thrown open, slamming closed seconds later. He knew she'd gone outside. What had happened to make her so franticly upset? And why had she pushed him away?

Building worry had distracted him all day, making focusing during the meeting with his advisors and while doing endless paperwork nearly impossible. He knew it hadn't been a full 24 hours, but he couldn't help but be anxious. After seeing his fiancée in such hysterics, it was only to be expected.

Trying to think past the concern, Caspian attempted to reason things out. He knew she'd disappeared, but the question was where. Where would she have gone? The only place he could think of was into the woods, where her family lived. Her family…that would make sense, of course she would go to her family!

Caspian shot upright from his defeated position in a library chair, bolting down to the stables almost as fast as Laurah had bolted down the hallway earlier in the morning. If anyone would know why Laurah had disappeared, it would be her family, the sprites. Hopefully, he'd find here there with them.

Breathing hard as he burst into the stables and saddled Destrier, he tried his hardest to ignore the still-present worry that was still welling up in his stomach. He would find her. And she'd be perfectly alright.

He hoped.

* * *

><p>I woke early the next morning, my back muscles a little stiff from having spent a good hour or two hugging my mother, comforting her. After I'd gotten her crying to cease, I'd coaxed her to lie down in her bed and had proceeded to tuck her in like I would a child. I'd lulled her to sleep with a lullaby. A lullaby I'd learned from the sprites. The first song I'd heard my true family sing.<p>

The melody was my favorite out of any of the numerous songs the sprites had, and I think it's because that song, that melody, is how it all started. It led me to my real family. It led me to my home. My real one, the one I really belonged at.

Jack must have slipped into my room when I'd been too tired to notice last night; he was curled up at my feet, his nose buried in a wrinkle in my bedspread. My adorable little dog let out a squeaky yawn much too loud for a dog his size as I forced myself out of bed. I gave him a pat on the head to reassure him that I wasn't trying to sabotage his beauty sleep before padding downstairs, still in the Tweety sweatpants and cami that served as my pajamas.

I frowned in confusion at the sounds coming from the kitchen; it was too early for anyone to be up yet, especially on a Saturday. Taking care to not alert whoever it was to my presence, I slipped into view of the kitchen, relaxing only a little when I saw my dad. He looked surprisingly sane – no signs of a hangover, at least. I was always on edge around him, but it was time to put that aside.

He was in one of his exceedingly rare good moods, even humming a ditty to himself just loud enough for my ears to pick up the sound. I hadn't heard it before, but it sounded like one from a pub. Shock must have been plastered all over my face; since when did my dad **hum**?

Blinking several times and pinching myself to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream, I gathered my wits and strode into the kitchen, my mood perking considerably when I caught the smell of coffee. My dad looked up as my bare feet slapped on the tile floor, a neutral expression on his face. Though I'd tried to hide it, my dislike of him wasn't a secret: not for him, at least.

"Good morning, Daddy." I'm not sure what possessed me to call him 'daddy' like I had when I was a little kid, but something kept me from taking it back.

"'Morning, kid."

A moment of rather awkward silence passed, neither of us quite knowing what to say.

"What're you doin' up so early?"

"Well…I've been meaning to talk to you. Would you mind?"

"That's what you're doin' now, isn't it?" Never in my life had I met anyone so gruff.

"I mean like a **talk** talk." I held my breath, unsure as to whether or not this would work. But I had to try.

He eyed me, seeming to weigh my words, before curtly nodding and gesturing toward the doorway that led to the living room.

_Aslan, help me know what to say._

I waited until both of us were seated comfortably: him in his favorite chair and myself on the couch. And taking a deep breath, I started what I was sure would be a difficult conversation. But something warmed my heart and kept a flicker of hope burning on in my chest.

We talked for what seemed like a thousand lifetimes. But the hope I'd felt at first didn't fade. It got stronger.

* * *

><p>Urging Destrier to go even faster, Caspian flew through the woods to the sprites' home. He couldn't seem to stop the ever-present worry from gnawing away at the hope that still burned in his chest.<p>

Gasps of surprise whispered through the air as he rode into sight of the village-like place, slight relief fluttering in him when he saw Laurah's sister, Ainslie. If anyone would know where Laurah was, it was her. The two of them were inseparable.

"King Caspian? What brings you here…alone?" Ainslie's face bore only confusion, and thankfully no displeasure.

"Have you seen Laurah today? She seems to have disappeared." Caspian was shocked at how calm his voice sounded. Only a small tremble on the first word betrayed his anxiety.

"I haven't actually. She was going to come by to day, come to think of it, but she never did."

Caspian felt his alarm rise still more, but was saved from his thoughts by a voice cutting through the tense air.

"Your Majesty, what brings you here this evening?"

Maybe he was hearing things, but it seemed like the Queen, Laurah's mother, had a little iciness in her tone as she addressed him. And that ice managed to freeze his explanation in his throat, something akin to fear sealing his lips. Luckily Ainslie spoke up before it became obvious.

"Have you seen Laurah at all today? I haven't seen her all day, and neither has Caspian."

"Has His Majesty been otherwise occupied such that he simply didn't see her in between his meetings?"

Both Ainslie's and Caspian's eyes widened a little at the barely disguised hostility in the Queen. If this woman hadn't been Laurah's mother, Caspian would have gotten angry, but he forced his irritation down and spoke as civilly as he could, given the circumstances.

"She ran past me this morning in hysterics and I haven't seen her since. I've looked everywhere except here."

"And what makes you so certain she would be here?"

Caspian gritted his teeth, more than a little agitated with the Queen's accusatory tone. Why was she being so…antagonistic?

"Perhaps because this is her family. Where else could she be?"

The Queen pursed her lips, her eyes glaring daggers at the young king. Everything had been going perfectly until this lovesick fool had shown up. Oh, the meaning behind those words! She meant them in more ways than one. But right now, her sole focus would be to get rid of this Narnian king. And getting Ainslie to hush.

"Well, she certainly isn't here. I believe we've already established that much." It took more self-control than the Queen would like to admit to keep her tone some semblance of civil.

"So you haven't seen her, Mama?" Unlike her mother, Ainslie was beginning to truly worry about her little sister. It wasn't like her to just disappear, especially without saying a word to anyone. Her mother's strange behavior didn't help, either.

"No, I haven't."

It wasn't like her mother to be so cold; she'd always been cordial the few other times she'd talked with Caspian. He was Laurah's fiancée, for heaven's sake.

"If you don't need me for anything else, then I do have some pressing matters to attend to." And with that, the Queen took her leave, still silently stewing about that infernal Telmarine spoiling a promising day.

She'd been quite pleasant to him when Laurah had first introduced him because she could see how happy he made her. That was before she'd realized exactly what was going on.

Her daughter belonged with her people in the woods that were her home, not in some castle of stone with beings so different from her. The Telmarine was a fool for not seeing that she belonged with her family. Perhaps if he'd had the wits to see it, things could be different.

Caspian, meanwhile, stood with an expression of the utmost confusion – a look shared by Ainslie. He'd always known Laurah's mother to be kind and warm-hearted, and yet now she was beyond irritable.

"I apologize for my mother, she…doesn't seem to be quite herself today." Ainslie was worried the young king might be offended, but the truth was that he was far too concerned about his fiancée to care about much else.

"It's alright, she's probably just as worried as we are." That had to be it. The stress of being a ruler on top of her daughter disappearing must have gotten to the Queen. Caspian could most definitely sympathize.

He didn't spend long there - just enough time to make sure. Bidding Ainslie a brotherly farewell, he rode off into what was now night, with the light of the waxing moon barely bright enough to light his way.

* * *

><p>I could barely believe it. He'd listened. He'd actually listened. I'd never in a hundred years be able to guess how, or why, but he had. And there was a chance now. There was a real chance.<p>

Step 1, talk to my dad, was a success. Step 2, to get him to apologize to my mom, was happening right this moment. Step 3, to make sure he would actually keep the promise he made to not get himself drunk again, was still in progress. That last step would be the most difficult.

The conversation had started out a little rocky, with my dad's trademark gruffness making it a little hard to get the words out. Even when he was in a good mood, the gruffness never went away. I guess he just wasn't big on emotional displays of any sort. He never really was, come to think of it.

I'd wanted to cut right to the chase and flat out ask him what he found so repulsive about this family, but somehow I hadn't been able to get the words past my lips. So I'd started with asking what he and Mom had been arguing about last night. Even I have to admit it wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had, but I suppose the coffee had put my dad in an incredibly forbearing mood, because he answered me without throwing a chair out the window. Seriously, it's happened before.

They'd been arguing about where he'd been last night. As usual, he'd hit a pub, but then he'd taken a little trip to a club. And I don't mean a good kind of club, either. When he'd come home, Mom had asked him where he'd been so late, and since he was drunk as a skunk, he flew off the handle, yelling about how it wasn't any of her business.

He hadn't put it that way, of course, but from what I'd heard last night, that was exactly what had happened. And then Mom had stood up to him. She'd done the unthinkable. She'd challenged him to his face.

She accused him of cheating. Obviously, she was spot on, but that hadn't lessened my dad's fury. He'd yelled all sorts of things like how horrible of a wife she was, how nosy and useless, etc. And though she'd cried, Mom hadn't backed down. She'd told him exactly what she thought of his little midnight parties, of his little clubs and pubs he went to every night. She told him how much it was hurting this family, and that she wanted to fix things, but he wouldn't let anyone fix it.

Long story short, they both yelled some more and then he stormed out, leaving my mom in tears like usual. Actually, he didn't mention that last bit about her crying, probably because he didn't even notice, but I knew. I was there afterward, the comforting hand I've always been. But I made sure to tell him about what he did to Mom.

* * *

><p><em>"Okay, so while you were leaving I don't suppose you happened to notice Mom crying on the floor, did you?"<em>

_A flash of anger crossed his face at my rather confrontational tone, but he must have seen the spark of defiance in my eye, the one that said I wasn't backing down without a good long fight. Instead of breaking his coffee mug with his bare hands, he merely clenched his jaw. The lack of vocal response was enough to confirm my rhetorical question._

_"Well she was. She always cries when you're upset with her. And do you know why?" And much to my own surprise, as well as my dad's I'm sure, my voice had completely changed from accusatory to watery with barely-contained tears. But I made sure my dad was looking me dead in the eye before continuing, my voice cracking as I did._

_"She loves you, Daddy. She loves you so much, she really does. All she wants is to be a better wife so you'll stop yelling at her, so you'll stop going to those damn clubs. Why can't you love her back, Daddy? **Why?**" Tears were slipping down my cheeks like raindrops down a car window when it's going 60 on the freeway. Unable to continue in a strong voice like I wanted, my little speech ended on a burdened whisper._

_"Please, if you can just tell me why, I promise I won't ever bring this up again. I'll let you do whatever the heck you want, if you just tell me why." I was reduced to pleading with the very man who was the cause of all the problems in my life here, but I found that I didn't care. All that mattered was that I helped my mom. _

_Utter silence was still the only thing my dad could seem to offer as explanation for the way he acted. Silence._

_But no matter how aggravating and just wrong his silence was, I waited. I wanted to wait it out, to let him speak the words himself rather than me ripping them out of his throat. He'd be more likely to change if I was patient with him. So I waited._

_And waited. _

_And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke._

_"I used to, you know."_

_I wanted so badly to say something, to ask him why he didn't now, but I didn't. It had to be his choice to tell me. I'd spoken my piece, and now it was his turn._

_"It was just that…I don't know actually."_

_Alright, maybe a little nudge was needed._

_"Was – is –it someone else?" I already knew the answer to that. But I needed him to say it. Maybe if he did, he'd realize._

_Another age-long pause followed my tentative-sounding question, but as before, my dad finally remembered how to speak._

_"Yes."_

_More waiting._

_"One day Mike and I headed out to the bar, alright? We walked in, had a beer, and two hot babes walked up. Fine, maybe I was hesitant at first. But it was fun, okay? A nice little…escape. No expectations or nothin'. Mike suggested a little side trip the next time we went for a drink, and there ya go."_

_"You don't sound…entirely proud of it." This was a totally new side to my dad; it was, a tiny, itsty bitsy bit…vulnerable. Strange though it was, it was a good sign. And the bonus was that now I knew who to throttle for leading my dad into that sort of thing in the first place. (Figuratively speaking.)_

_"So what?"_

_"So, after a few flings at a strip club you decided Mom wasn't good enough?" That was basically what it sounded like to me._

_"And what do you plan on doin' 'bout it, little missy?" The familiar coldness was back in my dad's brown eyes – eyes that, once upon a time, had shone with love and joy. But that was so long ago I could only remember it if I really tried. More than 10 years ago, I'm guessing._

_"I can't do anything about it. Only you can do that. I just asked to know why you hated Mom, and now you've told me, so I'll shut up, as promised."_

_I'll never forget the look on my dad's face. Incredulity, shock, astonished, and…dare I even think it…the tiniest sliver of pride. Tiny as in so-small-you-need-a-microscope-to-see-it, but still there. And I knew that I couldn't give up. Because there was hope. I knew it._

* * *

><p>From there, I'd managed to steer the conversation to what he was going to do, if anything. Luckily, step by step, he'd arrived at the exact conclusion I'd been hoping for: he decided that he would try – try to repair all the damage between him and my mom, and he even said what I thought I'd never hear him say: he said that he still loved her. He still loved my mom. In his classic, roundabout little way, he said it. From what I could guess, that love had just been buried so deep down for so long that he'd long forgotten it.<p>

But there was hope now. If he could love her enough to stop going to the clubs, at the very minimum, that would be one step closer to keeping him alive. After that came the real challenge: getting him to agree to stop driving while completely and hopelessly intoxicated. That would probably be the biggest hurdle of all, but if there was a way to make it happen I would find it.

I had to. Because his life depended on it. And I wouldn't let my mom down by failing.

Because her life depended on it too.

* * *

><p>"Thank heaven! I thought class would never end!" sighed Nikki, linking arms with me as we headed out of the dance studio.<p>

Needless to say, I wasn't going to get coffee with Jake today. Nikki had explained to him that her and me needed to have a "little talk" that was "a matter of life and death," though I can't for the life of me figure out why it was so pressing as to be life-threatening. I felt a little bad for having to back out of our…social engagement, I guess, but thankfully Jake wasn't too disappointed.

The instant she'd seen me, my best friend had let out a blood-curdling shriek loud enough to awake the dead, dashing up to me and demanding to see the "you-know-what." Mr. Dougherty had come running, thinking someone was hurt, and I'd had to explain that everything was fine over Nikki's endless squeals of wonder at my engagement ring. Thankfully enough, she managed to keep a lid on the fact that it was an engagement ring, and I'd passed it off as a very generous gift from my grandparents. (Not that any of them were alive, but none of my classmates knew that.) Apparently she thought it was the exact same color as my eyes, and hence was the most romantic thing in the world. Not that I didn't agree with her, but I didn't go proclaiming it from the rooftops either.

"And you're usually the one who enjoys it more," I responded, accompanying my slightly-teasing remark with a raised eyebrow.

"May I remind you that you are keeping a secret from me, and one that's obviously a teensy-bit importante to boot." Nikki shot a meaningful look at my ring – my constant reminder of who I'd left behind in Narnia. It seemed that no matter what I did, I was always leaving something or someone behind.

"Hey, what is with you, chica?" Nikki's voice cut into my reverie, freeing me from my slightly melancholic thoughts.

"Hm?"

An impatient snort from my best friend put a lopsided grin, though half-hearted, on my face.

"The entire day you've been spacing out and getting this really depressed look, and I don't like it. It's not like you at all." Hidden underneath the casual tone was true concern.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No need to apologize, just dish already."

"Nikki, we're still in the parking lot."

"Hush it and get in the car!"

"And where exactly are we going?"

"You tell me, I'll drive while you start talking."

"But what about my car?"

"What about it?" The frustration in Nikki's tone was unmistakable, but the slightest of smirks reassured me that she wasn't genuinely angry with me.

"Well, are we just going to leave it sitting here?" Call me silly, but I loved my car and I had no intention of letting it sit in the dance studio parking lot for the rest of the weekend.

"For now, yes we are." Nikki let out a huff, rolling her eyes at my indignant expression.

"For heaven's sake Laurah, I never said we wouldn't come back for it!"

"Well, I suppose-"

"Excelente. Now, my little friend, Get. In. The. Car. NOW! Please and thank you."

Fighting a serious case of the giggles at my best friend's vehemence, I nevertheless obeyed. She hardly waited for me to buckle my seat belt before opening her mouth again.

"So? What's going on?"

"Brace yourself; it's quite a story. Please don't think I'm crazy, okay? I know it'll sound completely nuts, but trust me?"

She shot me a sideways look of both get-on-with-it and you-can-trust-me. And after a deep breath, I did.

"Well, it happened last night, according to time here…"

"'According to time here?'"

"Patience Nikki, I'm trying to explain."

"Right, sorry. Continue."

"Anyway, I'd just put the dogs out and…Aslan, this sounds absolutely insane…but I heard something that sounded like a weird horn, and when I looked outside the woods seemed to be glowing gold. And no, I wasn't hallucinating. So, being the curious little cat I am, I followed where I thought it'd come from."

"You do know that curiosity killed the cat, right?"

"Actually, I do, in a roundabout way."

Nikki shot me a look of alarm, but nodded for me to proceed with my tale.

"So there I was, hiking through the woods in my back yard toward the light-thing when I found a clearing. I'm not kidding when I say that the instant I set foot in there, I was thrown into another world – quite literally."

At that point, Nikki just pulled over onto the road shoulder so she could gape at my words without kissing noses with another car. I couldn't decipher from her expression whether she actually believed me but was in shock or if she thought I was insane and was mentally calculating where the nearest mental hospital was.

"Do you have **any** living idea, Laurah, how much you sound like a crazed psychopath right now?"

I winced at her reaction, which wasn't the one I'd been hoping for, though it was the one I'd been mostly expecting.

"I know, it sounds crazy even to me. If the situation was reversed here, I'd have a hell of a time believing you, trust me. This," I said, holding up my ring, "is the only reason I even believe it was all real and not just some weird dream."

I paused a moment, trying to catch my best friend's eye.

"I know how much this is asking Nikki, but if you could please believe me, if for no other reason than the fact we're best friends," I pleaded, for some reason desperate for her to believe me.

For the longest time, she didn't say a thing. She just stared straight ahead, her fingers gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. I waited, knowing she needed a bit of time to process this. Then, finally, she spoke.

"You're crazy Laurah, and I'd be crazy to believe you."

My heart sank, but I nodded and tried not to look as disappointed and hurt as I felt. True, it sounded nuts, but didn't she know I wouldn't lie about something like this? Just as my thoughts threatened to pull me completely out of it, Nikki turned to me with a tiny smirk on her face.

"Looks like we'll be roomies in the mental institution, chica."

"You…you believe me?" Did I dare to hope?

"Laurah…here's the thing about best friends: no matter what, they trust you. And darn it all, if you say you went to another world - and even got engaged there, then as far as I'm concerned, it happened. I don't claim to understand it, but yeah, I believe you."

My vision was blurred with tears as I laughed a watery laugh.

"Well, that's a relief. Thank you, Nikki."

Waving her hand dismissively, she grinned hesitantly and laid a friendly hand on my shoulder.

"Don't mention it, what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't?"

Unable to articulate, I just smiled through my tears of joy and relief at my incredible friend. We shared a sisterly look before her eyes glinted with mischievousness.

"And now, tell me about this fiancée of yours."

* * *

><p><span>Two Weeks Later<span>...

"Ms. Hendrickson, a word please?" Mr. Dougherty motioned me over, that tell-tale look in his eye that told me exactly what he wanted to talk about.

Still, I obediently stepped away from Nikki and Jake, both of whom shot me a look of encouragement. I smiled thankfully at them before nodding at the door. I wasn't going to make them wait around for me.

"Yes Mr. Dougherty?"

"Why is it that you cancelled your registration in the upcoming competition, I wonder?"

The very question I'd been expecting.

"I know it's a big competition and all, but I just can't make it."

The only response from my dance teacher was a raised eyebrow and a less-than-pleased expression at my rather vague answer.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. Family matters, ya know?"

Truth be told, I just didn't want to leave anything to chance on being gone for so long. Everything with my parents had been going so smoothly, but my gut was telling me that we weren't out of danger yet. I still had the same two nightmares every night: the ones that had made me flee Narnia in the first place. For the first few nights since I'd gotten back I'd woken myself up screaming and crying, but now I knew to expect them, and so I could wake up without waking the rest of the neighborhood with me. Last night's round, however, had been one of the most, if not the most, vivid of them all, which only enforced my fear that it was far from over.

"Then we can only hope it will blow over soon. It'd be a shame to lose the entire season, now wouldn't it?"

I answered with a nod of understanding, slight relief replacing anxiety when Mr. Dougherty dismissed me and I slipped out to the parking lot.

The sun had just finished sinking below the horizon, the clouds still splotched with vague reds and oranges. Jake and Nikki had been nice enough to wait for me. Naturally, Nikki knew exactly what was going on and why I didn't want to compete, but Jake didn't know the specifics like she did. He only knew that things at home were harmonious for now, but they were still balanced on the edge of a knife.

"So, how'd he take it? Was he mad?" asked Nikki.

"Thankfully he was only peeved, but he didn't get angry. Though he did make it clear what he thought of the matter."

"That's pretty much expected, but I think family stuff is a pretty good excuse," said Jake as he fell into step next to me, Nikki on my other side.

"I should hope so. Anyhow, I should probably be getting home now. I'll see you both Monday."

And with smiles and waves all around, the three of us went our respective ways.

* * *

><p>"Hello boys, miss me?" I cooed as my dogs leaped at my legs, tongues frantically trying to reach my face to bestow a wet 'puppy kiss,' as I called them.<p>

From what I could tell, my mom wasn't home yet since dinner hadn't been started. For a second, I didn't know if my dad was or not, but faint sounds of a TV coming from the bedroom he now shared with my mom told me he was.

"Hi Dad, do you want dinner?" I called, hoping he could hear me above the sounds of the TV.

When he didn't answer, I shrugged and put my dance bag in my room before heading over to his and mom's room to ask him again. Knocking gently before I entered, I winced at the violence that was on the television screen. Having been in actual battles tends to change one's perspective on seeing them on a TV show. I wish that had been the only thing that made me flinch.

My dad was lounging on the bed texting someone, and I could tell from the guilt on his face that he attempted – almost successfully – to conceal that it was most definitely not an innocent text, and nor was it even to my mom. It crossed my mind to say something, but for once I decided to let him explain himself without any prompting from me. I didn't, however, try to hide the disappointment and controlled anger that had taken up residence on my face.

"You just going to stand there with that tragic look on your face, kid?"

"Yeah, I think I am. I'll let you do the talking this time." And just as I spit out those words, I noticed two things sitting on the nightstand next to the bed: a glass and a mostly empty bottle of whiskey. Besides that, my dad was dressed like…like he was going out for a night at the club.

Before this observation really had time to register, my anger was quickly turned to fear as my dad turned red with fury, his yelling voice making my ears ring.

"And just **who** do you think you are, hm? Don't forget who's the grown-up here, little girl."

"Then act like one," I whispered, shocking even myself at my audacity. This was the angriest I'd ever seen him, and here I was, back-talking with my chin held high. Even if I was afraid, I'd be damned before I showed it.

My dad spluttered and fumed, trying to spit out a retort, but he wobbled drunkenly the instant his feet touched the floor.

_But…he'd promised. He'd promised he wouldn't get himself drunk. He promised…_

But despite the tiny voice that babbled on in my head, utterly shocked that he'd broken his promise, I kept myself standing up straight, refusing to cower as he screamed and roared his fury barely four inches from my face. Was this what my mother used to put up with? Small wonder she feared him, if this was how he'd been with her before our heart-to-heart. But hadn't that meant anything? It had to me…I'd forgiven him during that talk.

I clenched my jaw as I fought to keep up my expressionless façade, even as my dad continued shouting in my face. Whatever he was saying didn't register in my mind; I was far too busy wondering why he'd changed so suddenly back into the old him. At least, nothing registered except for one thing: when he screamed that he was getting out of here. And suddenly, I knew.

He moved toward the door, but I found enough courage to step in front of him, my eyes pleading him to calm down.

"Out of my way!"

I flinched a little, but shook my head.

"Please Daddy, don't-"

I never got to finish.

One second I was standing right in front of my dad, asking him not to go. The next I found that my head had snapped to the side – hard. For a moment, I couldn't figure out why the side of my face hurt so bad. And just as I realized, my breath was knocked out of my chest as my ribcage connected with the side of the doorframe, the side of my head swiftly following suit. I cried out in pain as my sprained wrist hit the wood. Just as my vision faded into black, I saw my dad step over me and slam the front door closed as he left. And two words rang through my head right before I lost consciousness.

_You promised._

* * *

><p>Ever so vaguely, I could feel a hand shaking my shoulder. It seemed so far away at first, so distant. Even so, my eyes found that they could open, though tears prevented them from seeing clearly.<p>

My mother was kneeling over me, crying and saying she was sorry over and over again. Sorry for not being here, sorry that this happened, sorry for everything.

"It's okay Mom, I'll be fine," I managed to choke out, my head and wrist throbbing with pain.

My mom started to protest, but I just shook my head. Thankfully, she understood without me having to say anything.

"Alright honey. Let's get you to bed, okay?"

I gritted my teeth against the pain of standing and let her help me to my room. It was just like being a kid again: she turned down my bed for me and even tucked me in. After a final kiss on my temple, she left me to my thoughts, knowing as well as I that sleep wouldn't claim me for hours.

But time passed relatively quickly, considering that sleep evaded me the entire night. Strangely enough, thoughts did too. My eyes stared at the ceiling, but they didn't really see anything. Perhaps this is what people mean when they say someone is in shock. Everything felt odd and disconnected, like I'd be able to wake up and all this would have been a dream. Just another nightmare to haunt my sleep. I was so out of it that I didn't even notice it wasn't night anymore until it struck me that I could now clearly make out the color of my ceiling. Somehow the hours of blank staring had flown by and light was beginning to flood my room. The sun was rising.

I would have lain there in my bed for perhaps many more hours, but the faint sound of someone knocking on the front door jolted my from my stupor, hope bubbling up in me and giving me the energy to get up and stumble downstairs to see if it was who I was desperately praying it was.

My mother had already gotten to the door, and I waited with bated breath as it creaked open. And it wasn't my dad standing there. It was a police officer holding a white clipboard.

**Again, I'm not sure how soon I'll be able to update, but as I'll try my best.**

**A little incentive would help, so...  
><strong>

**Review Review Review! :)  
><strong>


	7. Chapter 6

**Okay, I know it's been forever since I updated...I won't make excuses, but I am going to try to do better. That's a promise. :)**

**Evy201 - I know, isn't her dad awful? I really don't like him...:P But yes, at least she has her mother and BFF.  
><strong>**I was hoping I didn't overdo it, so I'm glad it came across well. :)  
><strong>**Ah well, you know how I like to keep you guessing. I do have some really good plans for the Queen, so don't forget about her. Though her main significance is in the next story...  
>I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long for an update. :]<strong>

**Lady Firewing - I kinda hope it was actually...that part wasn't supposed to be a shocker. The sadness for his death is supposed to be more sad for his family rather than him...quite frankly, he kinda had it coming. :]  
>Oh dear...that's a plot bunny I'd love to incorporate, but with the way I've planned this story out...well, I'll have to see...but that would be good for some comedy! :P<br>Yup. I'm sitting on eggshells waiting for my test scores...And oh goodness yes! I didn't like those tests...royal pain in the neck if you ask me! Ah well, they're necessary.  
>Haha okay then, don't hurt yourself now! :)<br>Oho yes, I love hidden ploys! :D**

**RedRose252 - Ah, but Narnian time is unpredictable. Rest easy, all will be well...sorta:P**

**eowyninlove - Aw, I don't mean to torment you...haha okay maybe a trifle, but my muse told me to do it! She's the evil one...:P  
>Well, she is kinda gone, right? And I do love to keep y'all guessing. ;) But as for what's up with the Queen...you've got a while to wait on that. As in, the next story...:P<strong>

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Awwww, thank you! It was one heck of a chapter to write, so I love hearing how much you liked it! And yes, for Caspian, definitely cue the fangirling!  
>Again, sorry about the wait.<strong>

**The Queen of Water - I'll try. :)**

**Princess Ariel - *cough* yeah...well, it's up now! And I'm glad you liked the past chapter!**

**Le disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. (And I also wish I knew how to say that in French)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

Half a year.

It'd been half a year since she'd disappeared. His fiancée, his Laurah.

Half a year of searching, and nothing had been found. It was like she'd simply vanished into thin air. He didn't even know if she was alive or not. And if she was alive, she certainly wasn't in Narnia. He'd gone out with search parties to scour every inch of the land, and no one had found so much as a simple whisper of her. It was almost as if she'd never existed.

What had happened to her? Had she gone back to her world? Of all the possibilities, Caspian hoped that was it. If she was in her own world, it meant she was probably safe. Alive.

And she'd had those dreams about her father, so it was likely she'd gone back to try and save him. And knowing Laurah, the odds were she'd succeeded. But why hadn't she come back? There were just too many questions, too many possibilities and what-ifs.

"Your Majesty? The council meeting?" Trumpkin was one of Caspian's most trusted advisors, and the dwarf also, on occasion, had to snap the young king out of his melancholic reveries so he could attend to his duties.

Caspian fought back a grimace; he'd forgotten all about that blasted meeting. Sighing inwardly, he followed Trumpkin out of the library and down the hall to the meeting room.

"You know what they're likely to say, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"It's been a year and a half since your coronation, and you still don't have an heir."

"Nor do I have a wife; she seems to have disappeared."

"Your Majesty-"

Trumpkin didn't get to finish since they arrived at the meeting room precisely at that moment. All the council members rose and bowed their heads to their king, who returned their respectful greeting with a nod. Caspian tried not to let his anger show as he strode across the room to his seat – the throne. Only six months after the girl he'd been in love with for almost 2 years had disappeared, they expected him to get married to produce an heir?

A pause hung in the air as everyone waited for the king to speak first. When Caspian remained sullenly silent, a Telmarine lord – Lord Erimon – decided to cut right to the chase.

"Your Majesty, perhaps now would be the time to discuss-"

"Whether I'm ready to forget about my fiancée and search for another one?" Caspian found that he barely cared that he'd cut him off – however rude it was.

"You need an heir, my lord. For the good of Narnia."

Though he still felt as strongly as ever about the issue, a small part of the young king had to admit Lord Erimon was right. Perhaps he did recognize that Narnia needed an heir, but he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to let her go. Caspian knew objectively they were right, but…he couldn't outright agree to the idea of marrying someone else. Thankfully, Glenstorm spoke before Caspian had to come up with a response.

"Perhaps this council can give His Majesty…one year, during which time he must find a suitable wife?"

Caspian began to open his mouth in protest, but a pointed look from Jaystorm stopped his words before he even said them.

'Just be happy for the extra time,' the look seemed to say. 'She wouldn't want you moping.'

_He's right._

It pained Caspian to admit it, but Jaystorm had a point. Laurah wouldn't want him to wait around for her forever. She'd almost left Narnia for him – so he could marry someone more 'deserving,' as she'd told him once. He'd promptly and vehemently assured her that she was in no way undeserving, and that he was the one who didn't deserve her. Of course, she'd disagreed, but he never heard her speak of such things again. Caspian knew, however he wished differently, that if Narnia wanted him to marry another, Laurah would want the same. A year meant he didn't have to rush too much…

Clamping down everything he wanted to say to the contrary, Caspian forced two words out, loathing them with every fiber of his being even as he spoke them.

"Very well."

* * *

><p>I froze in my tracks, fear shooting through my veins and anchoring my feet to the floor. My mom's face was turned away from me, but I could tell she was scared too.<p>

_He's fine, he's fine, he's fine…he has to be._

The officer fiddled with his clipboard, one of his fingernails clacking on the metal part of it. He hadn't noticed me standing there yet, and his voice was low enough and quiet enough that I couldn't make out what he was saying. My mom didn't move; she only leaned forward a hair so she could hear him.

Pulse roaring in my ears, I found that I was slowly inching forward, afraid to hear what ever news the police officer had, but too curious and worried to stop myself. My sock-clad feet made no noise on the smooth floor. Unfortunately for me, the officer had paused just as I got within earshot. His eyes glanced up at me, now just a foot away from my mother, before three words left his mouth.

"…he's dead ma'am."

_No._

Unearthly screams shattered the former silence, the sound echoing in the small foyer like the shrieks of a banshee as my mother doubled over, the shock and grief driving an invisible knife through her. She was too weak, too fragile to handle this. Unshed tears swam in my eyes, but I managed to see though the salt water well enough to wrap my arms around the hysterical puddle of tears that my mother had become. I fought back a yelp as one of her shaking hands clamped down on my injured wrist

The officer still stood there looking very sorry to have brought such news, but I wanted to know a few things. I wanted to know if he'd died like I'd seen he would. Trembling from shock, my voice managed to choke out questions.

"H-how? When?"

"There was an accident last night, miss."

My mouth started to open to voice more questions, but then I remembered my sobbing mother.

"Please don't go anywhere, Officer. I'll be right back."

I waited for him to nod his acceptance before gently guiding my mother out of the foyer and onto the nearby sofa in the living room. She was so consumed in her grief that she obeyed my quiet but firm order to stay there without as much as a murmur of protest. Slowly but gently, I pried her arms from around me, biting back another squeak of pain for my wrist. Positive I could talk with the officer without her hearing the details I'd ask for – details that would only drive her histrionics further up the wall, I returned to the front door, stepping out onto the front porch and closing the creaky old door behind me.

"Did…" my whisper-soft question caught in my throat despite my determination to find out what had happened. Clearing my throat, I tried again, purposefully ignoring the pity-filled look the officer – Officer Matthews his nametag said – gave me.

"Did he suffer?"

"From what we can guess, no. It's likely he was very intoxicated at the time." Officer Matthews kept his voice thankfully quiet; I didn't want to take any chances on Mom hearing.

"Did he die in a hospital, or…"

"No, miss, he was killed on impact."

"Could you…could you just explain the whole thing, as much as you know?" I couldn't keep my voice from cracking several times.

After a moment's pause, Officer Matthews told me everything. And the worst thing was…I already knew. All the things he told me were the things I'd seen before. In my dreams.

My dad had been staggering drunk when he left the pub, and it'd been pretty late last night when he'd crashed. At the far-too-fast speed his car had been going, the head-on collision with a mac truck hadn't left much. The police had been hard-pressed to even identify the body – or what was left of it, anyway. The driver of the truck was alive, but hospitalized.

_Because of him._

There was little else to say other than the quiet "Thank you" that I pushed out of my lips.

Officer Matthews nodded in understanding and turned to walk down the rickety stairs that connected the porch with the path leading to the driveway as I numbly shut the front door, the hinges creaking as it closed with a soft 'click.'

I couldn't process anything. I guess this is what being in shock is like. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. He wasn't supposed to be…

My mother's shrieking sobs still sounded from the nearby living room and helped distract me from my thoughts. She needed me right now. Taking a deep breath to keep that numbness alive, I shuffled into the living room and wrapped my arms around her frail shoulders, letting her cry on my own.

"Shh, shh, I'm here Momma; I'm right here," I cooed into her hair, smoothing her hair with one hand while the other rested on her bony shoulders. She'd always been far too skinny to be healthy…

I hated seeing her like this. It wasn't right. None of this was. Still murmuring nonsensical words of comfort, I slowly guided her off the sofa, out of the living room, and up the stairs to her room. When she resisted my gentle attempts to disentangle myself from her, I sat down on the bed with her. If she wanted me to stay with her, then that's what I'd do. Though it tore me up to see her in such a state, being there with her while she cried was the best thing I could do.

* * *

><p>When my mother finally fell asleep, exhausted from ceaseless weeping, I'd lost track of time. A quick glance toward the window showed me a sun sinking on the horizon. My throat was raw from hours of whispered assurances and my fingers were numb from stroking her hair.<p>

Ever so gently, so as not to wake her, I eased myself off the bed and tiptoed out of the room after tucking the covers over my mother's curled-up form. I left the door open a crack so it'd be easy to rush in if necessary. And now that I had nothing to occupy myself with, the whole thing really started to sink in, though I didn't let myself cry until I'd reached my room and closed the door. I didn't want to wake her if I ended up losing it.

I was expecting myself to cry like a lunatic, but the tears came surprisingly slow. But the guilt didn't.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" I whispered to my door. I didn't need the silence to confirm what I already knew.

Why couldn't I have simply walked away? I should have known the minute he didn't come out of his room. I should have just let him be.

And even disregarding that, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I shouldn't have provoked him. I'd only been thinking of me, of the promise he'd made to me; not once did I consider the consequences of losing my temper. Never did it even enter my mind that it was most likely the crossroad, the tipping point between success and failure. If I'd only stopped to think, if I hadn't acted so rashly…he might be alive right now. But he wasn't; I'd failed.

* * *

><p>Boots echoed dismally in the stone corridor as Caspian made his way to the library, where he knew the Professor would be. If anyone would have some wisdom to share, it was Professor Cornelius. The half-Telmarine, half-black dwarf was the closest thing to a father he had.<p>

He still couldn't quite come to terms with the very real possibility that Laurah wasn't coming back. The fact that she'd disappeared so suddenly and without a trace didn't help. But he had a year – twice the amount of time she'd been gone. Perhaps a year and a half after her disappearance wasn't completely unreasonable.

And yet, he knew he'd never be able to forget her, that he'd never be able to love another woman like he loved her. The ring that he'd placed on her finger hadn't meant a year, or six months, or any measurement of time; it had meant forever.

Sighing to himself for the hundredth time, Caspian slowly pushed the wooden doors to the library open. Professor Cornelius, as he'd expected, was there, carefully placing an armful of scrolls back in their places on the shelves. Sitting there in front of the window was the telescope the two of them had spent countless nights staring through when he'd been a young boy, gazing at the stars when the rest of the castle slumbered on. Then came the nights that the Professor had taken the young prince to the highest tower of the castle to tell him the tales of Narnia. Those whispered tales were kept an absolute secret from his uncle, who'd forbidden anyone from teaching the old tales to his nephew.

"Ah, welcome my king. Is there anything in particular you are seeking?"

"Simply advice."

The professor nodded in his fatherly way and beckoned the young king to sit down. Accepting the gesture, Caspian seated himself in one of the two chairs near the stained glass window, the professor taking the other. Silence weighed in the air as Caspian opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure of how to begin. Ever patient, Professor Cornelius simply folded his hands over his round belly and waited for the king to begin.

"I…Well, I suppose you know that…" It wasn't like Caspian to stumble over his words.

Smiling kindly but grimly, the professor nodded. He'd heard even the servants whispering about it; the king was expected to produce an heir, and to marry, soon. Caspian looked slightly relieved at being spared the difficulty of spelling all that out.

"I don't know if…well, how am I supposed to marry now? How can I, when my heart will always belong to her?"

"It's a hard thing, my king, but I believe you must find the strength."

The professor knew Laurah's disappearance weighed heavily on Caspian's heart and mind, but he also knew that the young king would never be able to let her go if he continued holding on so tightly. Though it pained him to think so, Professor Cornelius was fairly certain she simply wasn't coming back.

"How can I just let her go? I-I am not sure if I can." King though he was, when it came right down to it, Caspian was simply a man in love.

The professor's thoughtful silence gave Caspian a sudden thought.

"You don't think she's coming back." It was not a question; Caspian knew. The haunted whisper of his voice seemed to settle in the silence like a thick fog of gloom. He didn't wish to think so, but a small corner of his mind murmured that perhaps his childhood professor was right.

"My lord?" The sudden brightening of the professor's tone caught Caspian's attention, and he listened with vague curiosity.

"Perhaps getting away from the castle would help a bit."

"I can't imagine what you mean," replied Caspian, his brow furrowing in confusion. What did that have to do with anything?

"This place holds many memories, Majesty."

Ah, so that was it.

"Supposing I agreed, where would I go? I have my duties here; a king does not often take holidays. There is no unfinished business abroad to resolve, is there?"

The Giants of the North had surrendered unconditionally, and the Calormen armies of the Great Desert were defeated. Cair Paravel was in the final stages of its reconstruction; Narnia was at peace.

"Perhaps you remember the Seven Lords of Telmar?"

"I remember hearing about them, yes, but they disappeared many years ago. What do you know of them?"

"Not much more than yourself, my king."

"But still more?" Curiosity was beginning to awaken in the king, and he looked more alive now than he'd looked in months. He couldn't help his interest; the Lords had been his father's closest friends and supporters.

"Only this: that they fled to the Lone Islands and haven't been heard from since."

"And you think I ought to find out if anything has happened to them?" Sitting back in his chair, Caspian thought for a moment. If it was his uncle who had attempted to kill them, and they were his father's greatest friends…well then, that **did** make it his duty to discover what had become of them.

"I had been waiting to tell you of this until Narnia was at peace, and perhaps it may help to take your mind off things." The professor's face bore its trademark pensive and honest face as his eyes bored into those of his former student.

Slowly nodding his head, Caspian said, "I will begin making preparations to set sail as soon as possible. Thank you, Professor."

Eyes warm with gratitude, Caspian stood and bid the elderly man farewell, feeling better than he had in a while. Having this voyage to prepare for and go on would definitely help. And now he had a chance to find out a bit more about his father.

* * *

><p>A soft, gentle wind whistled through the still air, making my long black skirt blow sideways with it. Wrapped in my arms was my mother, shaking with silent sobs as the preacher's words hung in the air. I heard his voice, but I understood nothing. My eyes turned themselves away from my father's casket and up toward the sun, almost hidden by the dark clouds that hung over us.<p>

"Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our brother departed, and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"

I turned back toward the coffin just as the pallbearers began to lower it into the ground. A comforting hand squeezed my shoulder, and I offered Nikki the closest thing to a smile I could manage in return. My mother continued to cry, shoulders heaving, tears spilling from her eyes onto my clothes. Tears blurred my vision, but none fell.

My ears tuned everything out; I was alone in my own world of silence. It was easier that way. Lips ever-moving, the preacher held a hand over the grave as the casket landed in the ground with a soft thud. That simple sound was the only thing I heard. It echoed in my ears, haunting me, mocking my failure. My eyes didn't blink as I stared at the smooth wood.

Slowly, slowly, I let my eyes drift shut. I wouldn't cry here. Not now. Too many people.

Time passed. I vaguely felt several hands on my shoulders. They meant to comfort me, I suppose. I didn't open my eyes to see who they were. I found that I didn't care enough to do that.

At last, it seemed everyone had gone. I let my eyes drift open, trying to ignore how hard it was to see.

"Laurah?"

I turned to face Nikki, my face utterly lifeless. She didn't try and tell me everything would be okay; she knew better.

My gaze flitting to my mother, I whispered, "Could you take her home for me? "

Nikki nodded in understanding, gently prying my mother from my arms and guiding her toward the car.

"Oh, and Nikki?"

I waited until she had turned around to continue. This was important.

"Would it be too much trouble if I asked you to stay with her until I get there?"

"We'll be waiting," she replied softly.

I nodded my thanks and turned back to my father's grave. By now they had covered the casket completely, and a mound of dirt was the only evidence of the burial. Thankfully, whoever they were understood I needed some time alone with the grave, and so they left. I waited until they were out of sight before I moved.

My knees slowly gave out beneath me, and I sank to the ground. A raindrop landed on the earth in front of me, and a roll of thunder followed. Soon it was a full-out rainstorm. I cared not.

As the storm raged on, my numb fingers reached out to the mound of dirt that was my father's grave. The earth crumbled in my shaking hand. My voice trembled as I forced out the one thing I'd been thinking the entire funeral:

"I'm sorry I failed, Daddy."

The dirt fell through my fingers.

"I'm sorry."

A single tear glided down my cheek, falling to the ground and plopping into a small puddle. A small idea found its way into my head. I'd tried to save him; I'd given it everything I had. But there was one last thing to do.

Shaking from the cold and the heartache, I cupped my hand over the mound of dirt. Delicate petals tickled my palm. I lifted my hand away and let it fall to my side.

And as I knelt there staring at that little white flower, I finally let myself cry.

* * *

><p><strong>And there we have the end of a long overdue chapter. It was shorter than the last one, but I made that one longer on purpose to be nice. :P<strong>

**And since my muse just came back to me recently, I'll try to be better about updating. :)**

**Review Review Review!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hello, hello! It's been Forever, I know...Suffice it to say I've been busy beyond belief and my muse was refusing to speak to me. Thankfully though, it decided to return, and so now I'm pretty sure this story is officially back on. :) And I'm now planning a fourth book to it as well, so I'm getting pretty attached to this little story... BUT as a heads up for anyone following this: next month I will be doing the NaNoWriMo contest, so I simply won't have the time to update this. A rare exception might be a chapter done in advance, but it's highly unlikely. So please don't be too upset if it's a while before another update. But I will definitely not make you wait for months on end...**

**The Queen of Water - Thank you, I'm glad you thought so. :) Especially since I'm not a big fan of my own work...:P**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Oooo, you're catchin' on to how I think! Though I can guarantee it won't be something you'll expect. ;) And thank you soooo much for all your positive feedback, it really does make me so very happy. :D**

**Evy201 - Aw, I'm not trying to make you guys cry...I'm just writing what Laurah tells me to. :] And yes, poor poor Caspian! *sniffle* He's got a rough time coming up...But you didn't hear that from me. :)  
>Good guess on the Sprite Queen, and I think I've worked out all the nuances therein...good times. :D<br>And I am honestly going to try my hardest to update more now, since most of my college visits and SATs and ACTs are out of the way. :)**

**Lady Firewing - And now I'm back again! And aw, I'm flattered that you missed this story...  
>Hm, well you know how I like plot twists. ;)<br>And yes, the dang council...I personally didn't like it either, but it was the only thing I could think of that would fit. :/**

**Garideth - Wow, thank you so much! :D It's so flattering to have such a loyal reader and reviewer.  
>Oh noes, crying? I sowwie...I couldn't help myself. I do love the drama...:]<br>And yes, DT is in this one. ;) Actually, not much of it...eh, you'll see what I mean soon. :P  
>He can't? Well...y'know... XP <strong>

**Guest - Thank you, I definitely try to make her as realistic as I can. And it took me forever to finally settle on that leading-up-to-VODT bit, but I'm glad it turned out alright. :)  
>And here's the next chapter, I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long...:**

**And now I'll just let ya get on with the chapter...after our favorite little disclaimer. :P (Oh how I've missed these.)**

**Disclaimer: Seriously, I don't own Narnia. (for the...what, 30th time?)**

***Arach is Gaelic for dragon**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

_Visitors. Finally._

A pair of eyes trained their calculating gaze at the two boats rowing toward the shore of Arach* Island. Their ship, the _Dawn Treader_ as they called it, remained a ways off from the island - within rowing distance but no closer. Pity the captain was smart enough to keep away from the shallows...The more the merrier.

The owner of the emerald eyes allowed a smirk of anticipation to cross her face as she thought of what awaited the party on this island, and indeed the fate two lords had met there. This would certainly an entertaining afternoon. Whispering a few words to her mirror that showed her all, she settled herself comfortably into her chair and watched.

"I doubt the Lords stopped here, my liege; there's no sign of anything living." Reepicheep trained his mouse eyes on the shore of the rocky and unwelcoming island, turning to look at the king when he spoke.

"Right, well once you get ashore, take your men and search for food and water. The three of us will look for clues," replied King Caspian.

"Hang on, you mean the four of us?"

A snicker flickered over her face. This Eustace was by far her favorite of the party. A perfect brat, from what she could tell. She'd kept an eye on the whole voyage.

"Come on, please don't send me back to the rat," pleaded the light-haired boy as everyone in the boat turned to stare at him.

"I heard that," said the mouse, sounding a trifle insulted.

"Big ears," Eustace muttered.

"I heard that too."

This elicited amused chuckles from everyone in Eustace's boat, and even from the one watching all this.

_So the boy isn't the only one good for a laugh._

But he did seem to be bothered by everyone's amusement, though he didn't let it show too much.

Before too much longer, both of the rowboats were being pulled ashore, and Eustace had taken advantage of everyone else's distraction to scamper off behind a large, sand-colored boulder, checking to make sure no one could see him before he hurried off farther inland.

_Perfect._

The boy was fool enough to head right towards the heart of the island. Meanwhile, another group headed off to explore.

And just then, as if on cue, the three royals - Caspian, Edmund, and Lucy - found a rope dangling in a sizable crack in the rocky ground.

"Look! We're not the first ones on this island," called Caspian.

"The Lords?" inquired Edmund, jogging up to get a better view.

"Could be."

_The girl doesn't talk much, does she?_

As the three of them stood staring down into the hole, Caspian grabbed a small stone and tossed it down into the cavern, and the lady had to snicker. What was the point of that little exercise?

"What do you think could be down there?" he asked.

_Yes, keep standing there little king; you'll surely find out that way._

"Let's find out!" suggested Edmund, sounding much more enthusiastic than the Telmarine.

For the moment, Edmund was definitely the more adventurous of the three, as he was the first to grab onto the rope and climb down into the cavern, surveying the seemingly endless space with a curious eye. He hesitated a moment, hands still lightly holding the rope, as his eyes swept the area for potential threats.

And now that it seemed to be safe, the other two also left behind the sun and climbed down into the hole, joining Edmund on the rocky floor of the cave.

_Keep going...there._

Edmund stood staring into a crystal-clear pool as Caspian and Lucy came up beside him.

"What's that?"

_Think Telmarine king, think really hard._

"I don't know; looks like some sort of gold statue," answered Edmund.

After a moment, he turned and strode to the rock wall, a snap echoing through the chamber as he pulled a dead branch from it. The lady could barely contain her smirk as he dipped it into the pool, seemingly trying to reach the statue. Unable to do so, he lifted the stick back out of the water, watching with shock and confusion as it seemed to be changing color – from dry, dull brown to lustrous gold. But as it grew heavier and heavier, Edmund let it fall into the pool with a yell of surprise, and realization dawned on the trio's faces.

Caspian walked to the edge of the pool, and crouched to look at the golden man, voice soft with pity.

"He must have fallen in."

_Perhaps you should join him._

"Poor man," Lucy chimed in, looking very sorry indeed.

"You mean poor lord," said Edmund.

"The crest of Lord Restimar."

_Who else could it be?_

"And his sword!" cried Edmund.

"We need it."

With a knowing smile and a wave of her hand, the lady summoned her mist and sent it straight to the cave. Hissing almost silently, it wove its way around the golden statue as Edmund slowly lifted the sword from the water, heeding Lucy's urge to "be careful," as she said:

"Your sword hasn't turned to gold."

"Both the swords are magical," answered Caspian, carefully taking the sword from its precarious perch on the side of Edmund's blade.

"He mustn't have known what hit him," Lucy mused as the trio turned their attention back to the man.

"Maybe," replied Edmund as he set down his sword. "Or maybe he was on to something."

Silent to the ears of the royals, the mist, safely hidden in the depths of the pool, whispered in glee at the same time as the lady.

A hint of something dark entered Caspian's face as he furrowed his brow.

"What are you talking about?"

Edmund made no reply as he picked up a shell and dipped it into the water. Setting it down quickly, he watched, mesmerized, as the entire thing turned to solid gold.

The lady watched with sadistic satisfaction as the poor boy grabbed the gold shell and stared at it, worshipping it.

"What are you staring at?" questioned his little sister, frowning slightly at the change in her brother.

"Whoever has access to this pool," said Edmund, "could be the most powerful person in the world."

Caspian and Lucy exchanged a look of worry as Edmund raised his eyes to look at his sister, his face now contorting into a look of possession.

"Lucy, we'd be so rich. No one could tell us what to do, or who to live with!" Edmund's fingers caressed the gold as his eyes flashed.

"You can't take anything out of Narnia, Edmund," answered Caspian.

"Says who?" he bit back, eyes once more transfixed on the golden shell.

"I do."

Edmund looked up as Caspian's voice gained a new dark and sinister tone and the smile slipped from the Telmarine king's face. A glance back at the shell, and then his rebellious gaze returned to Caspian. Strong fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, and the metal clanged on the rock floor as Edmund stood to face the man he now viewed as an enemy.

"I'm not your subject." The tip of his sword pointed at Caspian in a none-too-subtle threat.

"You've been waiting for this haven't you: to challenge me! You doubt my leadership."

The two men now began circling each other, eyes narrowed to angry slits. Slow, calculated steps brought them face to face, each with a sword in his hand.

"You doubt yourself," Edmund spit back.

"You're a child!"

"And you're a spineless sap!"

_Indeed._

As far as the lady was concerned, everything was going beautifully.

"Edmund-"

Lucy's plea fell on deaf ears as her brother flung her hand from his shoulder and his voice rose, fury contorting his face and voice.

"I'm tired of playing second-fiddle; first it was Peter, and now it's you. You know I'm braver than both of you," spat Edmund.

Eyes darkened to almost-black, Caspian sneered down at the boy as he continued his rant.

"Why do **you** get Peter's sword? I deserve a kingdom of my own. I deserve to rule!"

"If you think you're so brave," Caspian retorted, "Prove it!"

A shove from the Telmarine was all it took to elicit a war cry from Edmund.

Lucy flinched as their swords met with an loud clang, metal striking metal as they traded angry swings.

_Is he so perfect now?_

The lady's eyes burned with satisfaction as the two kings fought. With any luck…only one would walk away.

"No!" Lucy had seen enough.

Instantly the smirk fell from the lady's face.

In one bound, the Valient Queen had put herself between the two swords, effectively stopping the blows.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Lucy shouted, giving each of them a firm and disappointed look. Edmund and Caspian had no choice but to pay attention, though the occasional glare passed between them.

"Look at yourselves. Can't you see what's happening?" Lucy looked back and forth between the two men, and both stared back at her. Slowly, their senses began to return as Lucy continued.

"This place has tempted you. It's bewitching you! This is exactly what Coriakin was talking about. Let's just get out of here." And with that, Lucy turned and grabbed onto the rope to leave the cursed cave.

The two kings lingered a moment, staring each other down, until Caspian reluctantly turned away to follow Lucy. Still struggling with his wits, Edmund's gaze lingered on the priceless gold he still clutched in his fingers.

_Not now, not now! That little…_

Heaving a silent sigh, Edmund gave the shell one last look before tossing it into the magical pool and leaving the cave.

And as he did, the mist hissed loathingly at having lost its prey and vanished at its mistress's command. A very unhappy mistress at that. Emerald eyes flashing with anger, she bit back a screech of frustration. A second failure.

Pouncing from her chair, she paced the length of the room restlessly, whispering curses under her breath the entire time.

* * *

><p>"Oh yes, follow the imaginary blue star, to the island of Raman-doo-doo. Lay the seven steak knives at the table of a talking lion. Pft. Ninnies." Kicking an unfortunate pebble in his way, sandy-haired Eustace stomped his way across the barren rock that made up the island, his trademark scowl plastered on his face.<p>

He would have continued his surly rant, but the boy's steps slowed to a halt at the sight that greeted him in the valley below. Few would be able to resist staring at a glittering mass of gold, and Eustace was no exception. It stretched on and on with no end in sight, sparkling under the glare of the hot sun. Sparkle was everywhere it seemed: in the gold, in the eyes of Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and in the ever-present pair of emerald-green eyes.

"What is tha-Oof!" Eustace's murmur of wonder was cut short by his tumble into the valley as rocks crumbled underneath his feet. Landing with a grunt, he wasted no time in turning to ogle the vast treasure covering the valley floor as far as the eye could see.

"I must be dead," he mused, slowly getting to his feet and sprinting towards the nearest piece of gold, gathering treasure in his arms as he went. Anything gold, anything he could hold, Eustace grabbed, stopping only to take note of a rather large armband glittering in the sun.

"Ah!" The greedy boy let out a yell of surprise as a skeleton greeted him from around the corner. "You're definitely dead."

Meanwhile, the pair of green eyes continued to watch, a smirk painting itself across the slightly-pale lips.

Unease painted on his face, Eustace shoved the skeleton to the side and snatched the armband from its charred arm, sliding the gold trinket high up his own.

"Won't be needing that, now will you?" The boy's rushed words betrayed his nervousness.

But it was soon forgotten, as he fell to his knees and continued collecting bits of the treasure, stopping only to look about curiously at the sound of a distant roar. After a moment, the roar too was out of the boy's mind.

"Finally, a favorable turn of events," he muttered, his arms laden with gold and silver.

So absorbed was he, he failed to notice the sickly green haze seeping out of a nearby pile, hissing lightly as it swept toward him.

And by the time Eustace noticed he was feeling rather strange, it was already too late. He let out a shriek of alarm as he was pinched, pulled, stretched in all directions. Fire coursed through his veins, burned in his throat, scorched his tongue. He gagged against the taste of smoke in his mouth, eyes watering as it burned his eyes.

What was happening to him?

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Caspian and the Pevensie siblings had returned to the shoreline, all decidedly grimmer from their ordeal in the cave. No one wanted to speak of it, and no one did.<p>

"What food did you find?" Caspian's voice was quieter than normal as he came to a halt, staring down at the barely half-filled baskets.

"It's volcanic, your Majesty; not much grows," answered Rhince, kneeling in the sandy ground.

Caspian made no attempt to hide his worry; supplies were low, and if they didn't get more soon…

"Where's Eustace?" Lucy murmured, finally noticing the blonde boy's absence.

"I believe he's out **not** helping us load the boats."

Lucy's only reply to the mouse was to call out her cousin's name, the repetitious sound echoing dismally off the nearby stone cliffs. No answer.

"Edmund, I've got a bad feeling."

"I'll go and find him." Eyes squinted against the bright sun, the Just king turned to look for their miserly cousin, only to stop and turn around again at a few words form Caspian.

"I'll come with you." A brief moment of eye contact was all the agreement the two needed, and after Caspian handed Lord Restimar's sword to Lucy, they headed back inland.

* * *

><p>"Eustace!"<p>

"Eustace!"

The calls of the two kings were practically lost to the wind as another fissure hissed a spout of steam. Rocks crunched under their boots as they unknowingly trod the same path Eustace had. And the same glitter of temptation that had been Eustace's fall greeted their eyes: a dragon's gold.

"Treasure," Edmund murmured.

"Trouble." Caspian met the eye of the younger king, silently reminding him of the cave.

Edmund acknowledged the reminder and carefully made his way down to the valley, Caspian closely following. Worry creased lines in their foreheads as they went; Eustace knew nothing of Narnia, and this was unfamiliar territory. But the kings were pulled from their thoughts at the sight of a penny loafer – half-melted and burned. Eustace's shoe.

Edmund rushed up and grabbed the shoe, fearing more than ever for the boy's safety.

"Eustace…"

The two kings hurried deeper into the valley, when Edmund suddenly sunk to his knees.

"No!" His hands shook as they grasped the scorched shirt lying on the ground amid the treasure, only to drop the white cloth and pick up a small book, a journal. There was so question whose they were. The Just king found his eyes were watering up as he held the evidence of Eustace's demise.

"O cousin…"

"I'm sorry." Caspian offered the only comfort he could, though he knew it was little.

"He was just a boy." Edmund's voice was thick with guilt. "I never should have left him."

Hands still trembling from the shock, the younger king once again picked up the shirt.

"What could have happened to him?"

"In this place? Anything." Caspian's gaze had turned behind him as he continued, "And he wasn't the first."

Getting up from his crouch next to Edmund, Caspian made his way over to a charred skeleton, the very same one that had startled Eustace.

"It's Lord Octesian. We should find his-" Caspian paused mid sentence as Edmund held up the very thing he'd been about to say. "-sword."

Steel scraped as Edmund drew the magical sword from its scabbard, his face betraying his preoccupation with thoughts of his cousin. The guilty sorrow would take a while in leaving him, as Caspian could see.

There was little he could say to his old friend, and Edmund seemed content to go on in silence. So it was in silence indeed that the two left the valley to return to the _Dawn Treader_, their melancholy heavy in their footsteps.

So absorbed were they in their thoughts that the sudden roar that pierced the air made them both jump. They shared a startled glance before picking up their pace, each fairly certain what it was. As the two kings approached the shore, sounds of a commotion reached their alert ears, and their hands flew to their sword hilts as their muscles tensed, ready for a skirmish. It wasn't far to the beach now, and they wasted no time in jogging onto the scene, only to find that the uproar was already over, though they could see frantic movements on the _Dawn Treader_'s deck.

Edmund ran ahead, eager to return to the ship, but Caspian slowed to a fast walk, expecting trouble from inland rather than out at sea. Sure enough, he almost instantly heard a whoosh of wings and spun around to see one of the most feared beasts of the known world: a dragon, and it was heading straight for them.

Caspian's reflex saved him from the dragon's claws, but Edmund hadn't noticed the beast yet.

"Edmund, Ed!"

But by the time Edmund turned around, it was too late, and he found himself flying through the air in the claws of a dragon. The salty sea spray covered his face as the beast flew over the water, headed toward the _Dawn Treader_. Hearing Lucy's panicked scream as she spotted the two, Edmund called back to her, only to be swung around again as the dragon flew back toward the island, Edmund letting out little yells of fear the whole flight.

His stomach lurched as they dragon banked this way and that, heading straight towards the volcanic part of the island. Coughing from the putrid, sulferic-smelling smoke, the Just king blinked his watering eyes as something red and glowing appeared close ahead. Did the dragon mean to drop him in the lava for dinner?

Just as Edmund thought he would pass out from the fumes, he suddenly regained lucidity as he saw the lava in its entirety; he couldn't believe what he was seeing. There, written in the volcanic rock, was burned three words: 'I am Eustace.'

A very shocked Edmund looked from the message to the dragon, and back again. "You have got to be joking."

The dragon Eustace only stared at his writing and turned back to return Edmund to the others.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Caspian and a few others were bedded down on the beach staring up at the stars. Caspian found his mind wandering from solutions to Eustace's particular problem to thoughts of his father, and someone else as well.<p>

"I've never seen these constellations before," Edmund murmured, eyes fixed on the strange stars.

"Me neither. We're a long way from home." Caspian's voice was soft and contemplative; his mind was far from the constellations, but they did remind him of a childhood dream. "When I was a boy, I used to imagine sailing away to the end of the world – finding my father there."

"Maybe you will." Edmund simple words afforded him a small sliver of hope, that maybe one day he would see his father again. He missed him, as he had ever since his untimely murder. He missed her too: his fiancée.

Still, after three long years, he still thought of her as his betrothed. He always would. This quest for the Seven Lords had helped a lot with the sorrow for both her disappearance and his father's death, but both were still burdens he bore, and would always bear.

As he looked up into the night sky, he could almost imagine her sitting here beside him. She'd have offered some timely advice perhaps, or just sat there and listened to him if that was what he needed. He would have shared memories of his father with her, and she would have wrapped one of his hands in both her tiny ones as he did.

Caspian found himself wondering if she was seeing the same constellations, the same night sky. Absurd though it was, he wished for even that tiniest of connections to the woman he loved still.

* * *

><p>Time passes. It goes by slowly, but eventually it always moves on.<p>

It's been almost a month now. One short month, but it feels like forever. I feel old and tired and void of hope. My mom still isn't past it. I don't blame her. I'm surprised she hasn't decided it's all my fault. I have. Sometimes I sneak out in the middle of the night just to sit by his grave. I murmur apologies to the tombstone, but the marble simply stares back at me, cold and unforgiving.

I could sit here staring out of my bedroom window for endless hours, but my alarm began to buzz, reminding me about school. At first I didn't even care about school or anything other than my mother, but Nikki talked some sense into me. The distraction is good for me, and my neighbor, Mrs. Hibbett, comes over to keep an eye on my mom until I get home. She's been so helpful, and I guess she knows what my mom's going through. Her husband died in a car crash too, years ago.

I moved slowly to shut off the annoying little buzzer, ignoring the urge to simply wallow in sadness. Nikki would be over here inside five minutes if I didn't show up to school. Smiling to myself, I slipped out of my PJs and into my usual jeans and casual shirt. I don't pay much attention to my outfit; I haven't for a little while now. My makeup takes as little time as dressing, and soon I make my way downstairs.

My mom is up, as she always is. Ever since dad, she's been an early riser. I think she just likes watching the sun rise; it's the one thing that can remind her to hope. She doesn't look up, though I know she can hear me approach. She's too lost in thought, as always. Not that I begrudge her for it; I'd rather have her looking at the sunrise than at a blade.

"Morning Mom," I call softly, careful not to startle her. Her head turns toward me a fraction, and I offer a smile in return.

"I'm heading off to school now, okay? I'll see you this afternoon." I gently rest a hand on her bony shoulder, trying not to notice how much weight she's lost. After dad, it was a fight to get even a swallow of water down her throat.

My keys are cool in my hand as I shuffle out the door, waving good morning to Mrs. Hibbett as I go.

"Morning Laurah. How is your mother?" How Mrs. Hibbett can sound so kind at this hour is beyond me.

"She's doing a bit better; thank you. How are you this morning?"

"These old bones are creaking, but I'm doing well. Thank you, child. Enjoy school today."

I grimace in response. "I'll do my best. G'bye now."

"Goodbye, dear."

Almost too soon, the drive to school is over and the familiar brick walls loom before me. Somehow, I'm a little early today. I don't mean to, but almost instantaneously I sink into thought.

My fingers trace the ring on my left hand, reminding me of the life I left behind. The emerald sparkles in the early morning sun, just like his eyes used to when he'd look at me. Closing my eyes, I press the ring to my lips, missing him almost too much to bear.

I flashback to all the times he said my name: all the angry times, all the sad times, all the joyous times, and, most of all, the loving times.

"I love you," I whisper to the stone, wishing he could hear me. I left him without so much as a goodbye, and I can't help but wonder if I'll ever see him again. But somewhere deep down, I know I wouldn't go back, not yet. I couldn't leave my mother. I was all she had left.

I wonder if my mother would have liked him. Certainly she would've, but I know I'll never know. Still, that doesn't stop me from wondering. I wonder if he misses me too, as much as I miss him. I wonder if time is passing there in Narnia like it is here, if he's moved on. The thought makes me cringe at first, but I know that it'd be right and just if he had. In a way, I hoped he had. After all, it was I who left him, and quite abruptly at that. He had every right to find another, love another, marry another. I hoped he'd found someone wonderful, who loved him as he deserved. I wonder if his children look like him.

"Laurah? Come on you, it's time for the everlasting joy of the most boring classes in the universe, and I need you to keep me awake." Nikki punctuated her point by banging on my door.

I released a fond sigh and grudgingly followed her inside the building. This is my life now, the life I chose. But I remember Narnia, and Caspian. I'll always remember.

**And there marks the end of this chapter...and sadly I simply won't be able to update until after November, since I'm behind on plotting out my NaNo story. But expect the next chapter in the first week of December. And if it's not here, feel free to bug the living daylights out of me. No joke. :) **

**Random note: I just finished the most important scene in this entire book, so yay! Heads up to all you readers, especially the ones who've been with me a while: this story is going to be darker than the first one, so just know that. Reason being...I just wanted Laurah to mature more and make everything a little more serious. Because I'm maturing a little too. XP**

**And if you've got an extra minute, I'd love some feedback. :)**


	9. Chapter 8

**...I know, I know. I feel pretty bad about the updating gap :/ Buuuuuttttttt here is a dose of very good news for anyone still reading this puppy! Since I won NaNoWriMo with 56,097 words and I miss it already, I'm wrimo-ing again this month, in January! January 1st to January 30th. Why is this so wonderful? Because I'm working on THIS story as my NaNo story! So chapters will be coming every 3 days! So for everyone who's stuck with me through all the months of not updating, I'm doing this for you! :D (And I convinced my boyfriend to do NaNo with me, so I'll have extra incentive to keep the chapters coming xD) **

**The Queen of Water - Bless you if you're still reading this. :)**

**Evy201 - I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you've still stuck with me...seriously, THANK YOU.  
>And I'm glad you liked the chapter :) Here's another for ya, and another will be up before the weekend!<strong>

**IsThatBloodInYourMustache - Haha happy for the update? ;D Thank you for sticking with me, my dear! 3**

**Garideth - I know, I'm sooooo sorry for being so horrible about updating!  
>Aw, I'm sorry you cried...haha well as an author I'm happy, but as a friend I'm sorry xD<br>Haha luckily, I don't think you'll have to for the rest of the month! ;)  
>As for the darker turn, it's a-coming next chapter, so be prepared!<strong>

**Jadlynn - Wish granted, albiet a little late...:/ But the next chapter is coming in a few days! ;)**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Yes, she chose it in that she left Narnia to save her parents and all that loveliness...sad but true :] Haha and trust me, this story is FAR from over! ;D  
>And don't worry about it, I'm just happy you REVIEWED! *happy dances around living room* :D <strong>

**DarkAngel620 - Thank you, hopefully you're still around to see this chapter :P**

**And I'll get the disclaimer out of the way now...I don't own Narnia, people of fanfiction-land. And I'll broadcast that if you like. (Ya know, I can't help but grow a little fond of these pesky little things...) xD**

**And now, the typing of GlamourGirl190 presents...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

I inch my way over to the window, staring out at the last streaks of sunset. It's exactly one year now, down to the last minute. A year since my dad. I think I expected it – the guilt – to have gone away by now. But it hasn't really. I still dream about it every night.

But at least my mom's improved. She's not only out of danger, as far as I can tell, but she's better than ever. There's a lightness in her step I haven't seen in over a decade. She does so much now, like cooking dinner and keeping the house picked up and getting the groceries – more than she's done in years. It's a little strange coming home and being able to just start my homework, instead of making dinner and cleaning up afterwards, but it's nice.

Really, I have every reason in the world to be happy. I should be happy. I feel like I'm being ungrateful for my good luck because I'm not. No matter how much time passes, I can never let go of him. My heart is bound to his, across space, time, worlds, and everything else between us. The selfish part of me hopes he would wait for me, wait for my return. But I realize how much time had to have passed there now, and I do hope he's found someone he can love. Love isn't selfish, so I'm trying not to be.

I can't deny that my one deepest wish is to return. Yet I know I can't. No matter how safe my mother seems, I simply can't take any chances, not after I failed my father. I won't fail her too.

The buzz of my phone pulls me from my reverie. I don't want to answer it, but still I pick it up.

"Hey Laurah, it's Jake. How've you been feeling? Any better?"

"Good enough, I suppose. Thanks," I answer. Jake and I are still close friends, but I've managed to gracefully refuse any advances. He's been an angel; he took it with respect.

"Well good is an improvement. Listen, I know you don't like to get out a lot, but Nikki and a group of us are all heading out to the movies tomorrow night, and I should warn you that we're prepared to drag you along if you don't come willingly."

I can't help a laugh at Jake's teasing, even though I know he's half-serious.

"But-"

"Oh, and you can expect a call from Nikki in the next five minutes, or so."

"I suppose I'd better agree right now then?"

"It'd be the wiser course of action, I can promise that," he laughs into the phone.

"Well alright then, since I have no way out, I'm coming."

"Smart chica, as Nikki would say. Adios then, see ya tomorrow."

"Yay for school. Bye now." With a click, we both hang up.

Almost immediately, my phone rings again, and I pick up.

"Yes Nikki, I agreed."

"Oh good, then mee-. Wait, you did?" Surprise colors her voice.

"Yes, Jake told me it was pointless to argue. Where and when?"

"Wow…I'll have to give him a congrats and a kudos for that. Oh right: seven o'clock tomorrow night, at the only theater in town. Got it?"

"Got it. I'll be there."

"That's right you will, because otherwise I'll just drag you along myself."

"I know you will. Caio for now then?"

"Adios, chica. Remember, seven o'clock."

"I forgot already. Bye."

I chuckle fondly to myself as we hang up. I can almost never argue with Nikki and actually win, and it's practically impossible to be sad around her. But now that I'm alone again, my eyes turn from my phone to the ring that still sits on my finger. I've considered taking it off, but I never can quite bring myself to do it.

The emerald still sparkles back at me, reminding me of how lucky I was to have the love of such a king. And I should have tried harder to be the woman he deserved. How many times did I think only of myself, and how I was feeling; how many times did I actually stop to think about what he must be going through? How many times did I put him first?

I know I'm only torturing myself with questions like this, but I can't help it. All I seem to be able to think of is how many ways I failed him. I wish I had a chance to do it all over, or at least make it right, but I can't choose between him and family. Besides, I have no idea how to get back even if I'd be willing to return.

Still buried in my thoughts, I lay down on my bed as I stare out the window. My eyes close almost immediately. I'll just rest a minute, and then go back downstairs to spend time with my mom.

* * *

><p>I'm surrounded by a golden light, a familiar one. I've seen it twice before. When it clears, I almost cry. I'm home.<p>

Here in Caspian's castle, everything looks just as I remember it – the tapestries on the walls, the stone floor, the lanterns hanging from the walls. And there in front of me, though his back is to me, stands the one and only man I love.

"Caspian." I call out to him, reaching forward with my fingers.

He slowly turns around, but his eyes seem to stare straight past me, or through me, as if I'm not even there. Tentatively, I lift a hand to trace the side of his face with my fingertips. When they brush the slight stubble covering his jaw, his gaze focuses on me, eyes meeting mine in a piercing stare. There's warmth, but also pain. He's suffered as much as I, perhaps more. Before I say another word, I apologize.

"Caspian, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry for leaving like I did, I'm sorry for not saying goodbye, I'm sorry for not being the fiancée I should've been. I'm sorry." Tears warble my voice and slip quietly down my cheeks.

A single drop courses down Caspian's cheek too, and my thumb gently wipes it away. A moment of stillness passes, and neither of us even breathes. Then slowly, ever so slowly, Caspian brings his face down toward mine. I feel his gentle hands encircling my waist. My eyes never leave his. His lips brush against my cheeks oh so tenderly, kissing away my tears. Even now, his first thought is me.

More tears flow from my eyes – tears of love. He doesn't stop kissing them away, even as they come ever faster. My chest heaves as I start to sob, overcome with love and tenderness and happiness and every good thing. After everything, he still loves me. And I've missed him so much - I can barely process how wonderful it is to see him, be with him again.

Softly, he hushes me, letting go of my waist with one hand to caress my hair, pulling me close to him in the most gentle of embraces.

"I've missed you so much," I whisper into his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

"And I, you." His breath tickles the top of my ear, sending pleasant little shivers down my spine.

My arms wrap around him as my eyes close contentedly, and we stand there in perfect peace.

"I love you."

More tears spring from my eyes as I hear those three words from his lips.

"And I, you."

* * *

><p>My eyes slide open as I wake, though I can't see past the salt water in them. I can feel trails of tears on my cheeks. I love him; I love him, and that's the only thing I can think.<p>

I'm crying silently and smiling gloriously and missing him terribly. I want so much for that dream to have been real. I ache with longing to be with him again, to feel his whisper into my neck, wrap his arms around me, brush a stray hair from my face.

"Soon, daughter."

Furrowing my brow in slight confusion, it takes me a moment to realize who spoke. It was my mother's voice – my real mother's. For a moment, I'm confused, but then I notice that my bracelet is glowing. So that's how. But, did she really just tell me that I'll return to Narnia soon?

I'm not sure if I should be happy or afraid, but I do know this: I can't leave my mom here. My head starts to spin; I don't know what to do. So I call the only person who knows about my life in Narnia.

My fingers impatiently tap my sheets as my phone rings. It seems to take an eternity for Nikki to pick up.

"Hey chica, what's up? Any particular reason you're calling in the mid-"

"Nikki, I need advice and I need it now."

"Well okay, shoot."

"I just had this dream about going back to you-know-where, and then my mother – my real one – told me 'Soon.' What do I do? I can't leave my mom here alone, but I want to go back to him so much, but I-"

"Hold the phone, chica, and slow down. Breathe, please."

I force myself to do so.

"Now, firstly are you sure it's definite that you'll be going back?"

"I'm almost positive; there's a really good chance at least."

"Okay, then don't you think you should tell your mom everything?"

"What?! Nikki, what was in your soda today?"

"Hear me out. She's your mom, alright? And she's managed to get out of a tragedy quite well, so you can trust her to handle it well enough. On top of that, she raised you and she cares a lot about you; doesn't she kind of have a right to know?"

"I get what you're saying, and you're right. I guess I'm just scared is all."

"Weren't you scared when you told me?"

"Well yes, but-"

"Then there ya go. Just tell her, chica. You'll be glad you did, I promise. And if it backfires, you can stay home tomorrow."

"You're pretty confidant, aren't you?"

"Aren't I always? Now go on and tell her, okay?"

"What, right now?"

"No, in ten years. There's no time like the present, chica!"

"I suppose, but-"

"No buts! Go on now, and you can tell me how it goes tomorrow, or later tonight."

And with that, in her classic no-room-for-argument style, Nikki hangs up on me with a click.

"Of course, so I can't argue back," I grumble, tossing my cell phone onto the bed and plodding downstairs. The sooner I got this over with, the better.

"Mom? Can I talk with you for a minute? Or maybe a little longer?"

"Sure honey, about what?" My mom dries her hands on a dishrag before walking over to sit next to me on the sofa's worn cushions.

"About…well, about a lot, a whole lot of things. I know it's probably going to sound crazy, but Nikki convinced me that I should tell you mainly because I'm worried I'll be going back soon or sometime, and I wouldn't want to just disappear without you having any idea where I went even though that happened before; but no time passed, so it's kinda weird like that and-"

"Slow down, Laurah, I can barely understand a word you're saying. Now, what's this about leaving? Going where?"

"To…Narnia."

From there, I tell her everything, just like I did Nikki. I start slow, easing her into it. But the moment I mention Caspian, she suddenly looks as if she believes me. Maybe it's just the way I talk about him, or maybe it's just that she knows what it's like to be in love; either way, she believes me. So telling her the rest is easy, even up to how I left. When I'm done, she lays a hand on my arm, eyes brimming with tears.

"Oh child, why did you leave him?"

"I didn't have a choice! I wanted to help you, I wasn't thinking about anything else," I whisper, tears filling my own eyes. But I still can't regret leaving him. It was worth it to save my mom.

She nods slowly, seeming to understand, but still sad. Her gaze drifts down to the ring ever-present on my finger, and it seems to dawn on her just then why it's there.

"How did I never notice that ring there on your finger?" she muses almost inaudibly before returning her eyes to my face. "Honey, I can't imagine how much you must miss him."

"I'm okay, really. I just…I wanted you to know, just in case."

"So your dream last night, you think it was a vision?"

"I'm almost positive. I'll try to stay h-"

I'm cut off by my mother's hand over my mouth.

"No. Laurah, sweetie, think how he must miss you. You don't need to stay here on my account – I'll be perfectly alright, especially since I'll understand why you're gone. If you get the chance to go back to Narnia, you should go."

"Are…are you sure?"

"Honey, I've never been so sure of anything in my life. You love this man, and he loves you equally as much, or better. Go home, marry him, and have your happily ever after. You've earned that much." Her eyes beg me to listen, tell me this is what she wants for me.

Tears brim in my eyes, and I'm ready to give in, promise to go back the first chance I get.

"Thank you, Mom." I almost choke on my own words, hiccupping from holding back my tears.

She kisses the top of my head, giving comfort only a mother can, and for a moment, everything is perfect just as it is. She's okay, and I'm okay, and everything is alright.

"Now, you do have an evening dance lesson today, don't you?"

"Crud, that's right…I guess I'd better go get ready. Thanks."

A quick hug, and then she shoos me on my way. In minutes, I'm dressed and on my way out the door. I don't really wear makeup much anymore; I don't see the point in it. I didn't have it in Narnia, after all.

"Bye, Mom," I call as I scurry out the door. Unfortunately for me, I am running a little late.

"Bye sweetie, drive safe!"

"Always do." With that, I'm gone. And before my car is even turned on, my phone is calling Nikki. I know talking on the phone and driving isn't exactly smiled upon, but I have to tell her how well it went, and ask if she agreed with my mom.

"What's happenin,' chica?"

"You were right, Nikki. You were right."

"Aiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!"

I hold the phone away from my ear in a vain attempt to lessen the damage to my eardrums.

"Okay Nikki, no need to take out my eardrums."

"I told you so, I told you so, I told you so!"

"Yes, you did tell me so. But it gets better."

"Oh? How so?" Nikki's excitement is barely contained, but she spares my poor ears this time.

"Not only did she believe me, she wants me to go back, as soon as I can."

"…" Silence greets me from the other end of the line.

"Nikki?"

"Would…would you ever come back, chica?"

I wasn't expecting this. It never occurred to me, I guess.

"I…I don't know. Maybe not…I guess I didn't think about that."

"I'd never see you again, would I?"

"I…"

"I'll take that as a 'Probably not.'"

I've never heard Nikki this sad before. I can't think what to say.

"…How long? How much more time do I have with you?"

"I…I don't know." I say something then, something I can hardly believe I'm saying. "I don't have to go, Nikki."

More silence.

"No truly, I don't. I can just ignore the opening when it comes, and I'll stay here with you and with Mom, and-"

"And what? Mope over Caspian for the rest of your life? Ignore Jake completely, no matter how hard he tries? Think about that, Laurah. It wouldn't be enough to stay just to stay. You'd have to actually want to."

I don't know if I can promise that. I miss him so much it hurts – I miss my fiancée. I miss Caspian.

Nikki takes my silence as refusal.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Don't waste your time here, Laurah. You'll never be happy without him." I can tell Nikki's forcing the words past her throat, loathing them even as they leave her mouth.

"Nikki, I-"

"Save it, chica. I'll see you at class."

Just like that, she hangs up. And I feel emptier than ever, like I've lost my best friend in the world. I probably have, in one way or another. I can't think about anything but the choice that seems to be in front of me: stay here, with my best friend and my mom, or go home to Caspian – and my real family.

* * *

><p>"There you are, Laurah. Running a little late?"<p>

"Hey Jake." I wave as light-heartedly as I can as I follow him inside. We've both arrived with a scant few minutes to get ready and stretch.

"You okay? You seem kinda out of it," he notes as he opens the door for me.

I nod my thanks as I joke back, "Have I ever been in it?"

"Depends who you ask," laughs Jake.

"How very reassuring."

"How kind of you two to join us. Were we running a little late, Miss Hendrickson, Mr. Glassen?" Mr. Dougherty is less than pleased at our near-tardiness, that's for sure.

"Just a little, sorry," we chime in unison as we hurry to stretch a moment before class begins.

"Let us hope your performances don't suffer. Now, let's all start with a lively jive, shall we?"

A collective groan sounds from the entire class – the jive is very energetic and very tiring, though still fun. Still, we all obey our teacher, and the rest of the hour-and-a-half is spent perfecting that single dance.

Eventually, class is over and we can finally catch our breath. Jake holds up better than most of us since he's probably the most athletic – so he makes good use of his remaining breath to tease the rest of us about our exhaustion.

"Come on guys, tir-"

"Jake?" calls Nikki.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Everyone else laughs while Jake rolls his eyes in mock annoyance as we stretch again to keep the lactic acid from building up in our muscles after this vigorous a workout.

"Laurah?"

"Yeah Nikki?"

"Mind if we chat a bit before you head off home?"

I know exactly what this is about. Without even meaning to, my focus flies to the emerald ring on my finger and my fingers trace the outline of it. Nikki doesn't miss this, of course, but she doesn't say anything here, not in front of everyone who has no idea about Narnia. I doubt any of them have noticed my ring, come to think of it. It's just as well, though. That my-grandmother-gave-it-to-me story was getting old anyway.

Nikki and I are the first ones out of the studio, and she motions me over to her car, parked on the far end of the lot. She's smart to stay out of everyone's earshot. The silence between us is eerie and strange, and I don't like it one bit. This isn't like either of us, to clam up. There's never a time when neither of us has nothing to say at all – if one is quiet, the other more than makes up for it by chattering away. That's how we roll, and now I might have ruined that. Still, I can't bear the silence.

"Nikki, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I haven't tried to be happy here, truly I am."

She doesn't meet my eyes, but stares at the side of her car instead. "You'll never be really happy here, will you chica?"

I want to deny it, promise to do better and to miss Caspian less. "I could try, Nikki, I promise I could."

Still, she refuses to meet my earnest gaze. "Is there any chance you would ever come back here?"

"I just don't know; I have no control over that and no way of knowing either way."

"So this would be goodbye? Forever?"

My throat constricts painfully at the hollowness of my best friend's voice, and it sinks in just how much she loves me.

"You're like my sis, Laurah. You're like family."

"I know, I know," I choke out, holding in my tears. They'd serve no purpose other than make us both more upset.

More silence stretches between us as the sounds of cheery chatter floats toward us from the studio as the other kids make their way to their cars. A chill breeze blows Nikki's hair forward, blocking her face from me.

"Just…promise me one thing, okay?"

I nod wordlessly, hoping I'll be able to do whatever it is she wants.

"Before you go, call me so I can rush over to say goodbye?"

"Nikki, I don't have to-"

"No, but you should. You miss him, and if you don't go back you'll spend the rest of your life sorry you didn't. It's fine, I get it chica. Just promise I can say goodbye."

"I promise."

She nods, her face still hidden from my view. I'm hurting just knowing she's hurting, but I know she won't let me argue.

We stand there a moment more, still as the parked car. Then that moment passes, and Nikki unlocks her door.

"Guess I'll see you around, chica." With that, she climbs in and starts the car, leaving me standing there unable to say anything back. I never wanted Narnia to come between us. I never thought it would.

I'm summoned from my near-reverie when her car start backing up, and I head off toward my own, my right index finger tracing my engagement ring the whole while. It's like I have to chose between Nikki and Caspian – and that's something I don't know if I can do.

Such are my thoughts as I drive home, my headlights reminding me of the day Nikki and I got our licenses. We went so nuts that night, too hyper on our newfound freedom to think clearly. Silly as we were, we snuck out of our houses at two o'clock that night and hotwired her older brother's convertible and went on the first and only joyride of our lives. I don't remember much of it clearly, but I've always remembered the headlights on the road.

We've done so much craziness together, as well as keeping each other out of trouble. She's always been the one to keep me from going bat-shit crazy over anything that happened at home with my parents, and I've always been the one to remind her to do her homework, study for her tests. We've always been there for each other, whether it's to help each other behave or let loose a little, and I sure as hell don't want that to go away now. Especially not over something like this. How can I choose?

Well, hopefully I won't have to. Maybe it really was just a dream that I went back after all, and all this is for nothing. I almost wish that was the case.

When I arrive back home and step inside, I have to smile as the welcoming smell of baking lasagna wafts out of the kitchen and into my nose.

"Hey Mom, I'm home. Oh, and it smells delicious by the way," I call, leaving my heels in the powder room.

"I heard. Dinner's ready, as you smell." My mom takes in my face in a flash as I stride into the kitchen and grab a plate. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Let's just say not everyone is happy about the idea of me going back," I mumble, fidgeting with the plastic disk.

"Why ever not? You have every reason in the world to go back. He's your true love."

"But how can I choose between Caspian and Nikki?" I choke out, tears again brimming in my eyes.

She looks up from taking dinner out of the oven and comes over to wrap me in a motherly embrace.

"You shouldn't have to."

"But I don't want to leave on bad terms with anyone, especially Nikki. And especially since I don't know if I'll be able to come back here again."

"I see," she murmurs into my hair, rubbing my back comfortingly. "Well I hope she comes around for you, but don't let her change your mind about going to Caspian." My mom lifts up my hand so my ring is within my line of vision. "He didn't give you this for nothing."

I have to smile at that, as the perfect little emerald winks back at me in the warm kitchen light. "You do have a point there."

She pats my cheek and smiles. "Now, how does some lasagna just out of the oven sound?"

* * *

><p>Sometime that night, I'm awakened by my mother urgently shaking me awake.<p>

"Wake up sweetie, you'll want to see this."

"Mmmph?"

"No time to waste, up up up!"

"A'right, a'right, I'm up," I mumble, still half asleep as I push myself into a sitting position.

"Put on your slippers….there you go. Now come with me, quickly!"

I stumble after her, only upright because I'm holding on to her shoulder. What on earth is so important that she had to wake me up before the sun's even risen?

She leads me down the stairs and into the basement, and fumbles to get the door open.

"Remember how you told me you got to Narnia?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with-" I stop mid-sentence when my bleary eyes register a warm, gold light coming from…well, everywhere. For a moment, I'm utterly confused as to why there's a mini sun in my basement, but then it dawns on me. Narnia. I'm going home.

I start to walk outside, but then I remember my promise.

"Mom, could you wait here a second while I get my phone? I promised Nikki I'd tell her goodbye before I left."

"Hurry."

I nod and dash up the stairs again, and I'm panting with exhaustion by the time I reach my upstairs room again. My fingers, still clumsy with the cloud of sleep, knock various knick-knacks off my nightstand before they finally find my cell phone, but the its ringing before I've even dashed out of my room again.

"What gives, chica?" Nikki yawns into the phone, sounding more than a little peeved that I've woken her up at 3-something in the morning.

"Nikki, it's time. I can go back right now, this very minute. That same light is in my basement as we speak."

"…SHIT!" The split second of silence is broken by Nikki's screamed, choice word. "Don't you walk through that light until I get there, understand? I'll be there in 5 minutes!"

"Okay, I won't. I'll be in the basement, and the door's open," I reply, stopping by to unlock the front door before running back down the stairs and into the basement once more.

"She's on her way," I call to my mom, stumbling over to her.

"Good, I don't know how long it's going to be here. Laurah?"

I calm myself enough to look up at her.

"Thank you for coming back for your father and I."

I nod, because a lump is forming in my throat that makes it too hard to speak. We stand there in silence, waiting for Nikki. Each minutes seems to last an hour, but finally we hear Nikki throwing the front door open and clamoring down the stairs.

"Laurah?! You better still be here chica, or I swear I'm gonna-"

"Hey Nikki. I'm still here, just like I promised."

She breathes a sigh of relief before launching herself across the room to throw her arms around me in a bear hug. I hug her every bit as fiercely, tears dripping down my cheeks and onto her sweatshirt.

"I hope you come back, chica."

"I hope so too. I will if I can."

"You promise?" I've only heard Nikki cry a handful of times, but this is one of them.

"I promise," I whisper back, holding on to her as if she's a lifeline. I don't want to go, and yet it's the only thing I want in this world.

I don't know how long we stand there, but eventually she breaks the embrace first.

"Now go. I don't begrudge you for it," she says, sniffling with her nose all red.

I obey, stepping away from her, only to hug my mom. We don't need any words; we said everything we needed to say before Nikki got here. Letting go is hard, but my bracelet begins to glow softly, and that's all the encouragement I need. We let go at the same time, silent tears streaking both our cheeks, and Nikki's too.

"Goodbye," I whisper, my eyes never leaving theirs as I step backwards toward the light. I'm certain this is it, but just as I start to step out the basement door, Nikki bolts forward and grabs my hand. I try to stop, but it's too late; the light engulfs us both.

I close my eyes, bathed in the light just as I was so long ago when I first went to Narnia. Wind whips my hair forward over my face, and I'm lifted into the air, the ground falling away from my feet. Nikki's fingers are warm as they desperately cling on to mine, but she doesn't scream. I can't believe what she did, but I'm glad she did it. But my happiness quickly turns to fear – her hand is suddenly and violently ripped from mine, and I'm no longer floating. I'm falling and screaming.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I think that was a little longer than chapters usually are... Which should make y'all happy, I hope ;)<strong>

**I'll have Chapter 9 up in 3 or 4 days!**

**Oh, and reviews are always appreciated ;P**


	10. Chapter 9

**As promised, another chapter! :D Gosh this feels good, to write again! And I got some very very nice reviews, that positively made my day, so thank you to all you wonderful reviewers! The next chapter should be coming in 3 or 4 days, as before. ;P**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Aw, thank you for responding so quickly!****  
><strong>Hahaha I wish I'd seen that! Actually that was a case of a runaway character, but I kinda liked it, so I kept it xD<strong>  
><strong>And here you are! Another chapter ;)<strong>**

**chibimaker - Thank you, it's great to be back! :D****  
><strong>Haha no, but that's alright xD<strong>  
><strong>And good, I'm glad the tension is building! And I hope you all hate me for what I'm going to do! :P Haha and thank you, I'm on track to win this one too! 8D<strong>**

**Garideth - First of all, you should know that I had to laugh out loud at that "witch in a broom factory" line! Ah, how I've missed you all!****  
><strong>First: Aw, thank you :D But I won't keep you waiting that long the rest of the story, I promise. xD<strong>  
><strong>Second: Haha yes, it was about time. ;) Aaand actually this chapter didn't turn out as dark as I'd anticipated, but don't worry, it'll be in the story!<strong>  
><strong>Third: Aw, thank you! It's addicting! xD<strong>  
><strong>Finally: Awwww, I'm tickled pink how much you love my stories! Enjoy this next chapter! :D<strong>**

**Evy201 – Haha yep, an update! ;)  
>Yeah, I figured her leaving without telling her mom was kinda cold. :P And neither did I! Runaway character! xD<br>Darker actually got postponed. There's a little in this one, but the bulk of it is actually later :/ Still, it's a-comin'! ;)**

**Fantasy Girl – Thank you! :D**

**Disclaimer - Still don't own Narnia! xD**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Narnia is not a place to fear. But I'm afraid. This isn't the Narnia I know. This isn't the Narnia I remember. All around me is darkness, and a low hissing echoes in my ears. It's not a snake, but it sounds every bit as eerie and dangerous.

I'm expecting a painful impact as I fall, but my landing is surprisingly gentle, considering how fast I fell. A quick "Oof!" pushes past my lips as I land on my back and something hard pokes into my spine.

Wincing slightly from the impact, I sit up slowly, running my hands over my surroundings. From what I can tell, I've landed on a huge boulder. Somewhere near water – I can hear the gentle lapping of the waves against the base. Salt permeates the air I breathe, and green wraith-like shapes are the only thing to see other than inky black. I don't know if I'm even in Narnia.

A wild war cry echoes from somewhere to my left, followed by the ringing of steel on stone. It almost sounds like someone is trying to cut a rock with a sword. The cries escalate in volume, and it seems like there are words in there, but I can't understand – to my ears, it's one wordless jumble of syllables.

"Hello? Is someone there?" I call out tentatively, my head turning as I search for some sign of human life. I find none. The continued shrieks sound inhuman. They frighten me.

I have no idea where I am, and I can't think what I should do. The misty things floating around are coming closer to me, morphing into so many different things too fast for me to process.  
>Trembling from the damp chill in the air, I force myself to my feet, my movements slowed by fear. The boulder beneath my feet is slick, and no sooner than I've stood up, I'm back on my bum.<p>

"Where am I?" I whisper to no one in particular as I rub my now-bruised backside.

Mist swirls around me, blocking everything from my view. It's the kind of green cartoon characters turn when they're seasick, and I shrink from the stuff as a low cackle drifts from it. My arms try to wave it away, but it only pushes against my face. I cough for want of clean air as it floods my mouth and nose, and my fear runs through my veins like ice. A gag erupts from my throat as I try to force the green mist out of my throat, but it's no use – I can feel it seeping into my head.

I let out a scream as it winds its way through my head, forcing its way through my facial bones and toward my brain. Again and again I try to cough it out, panic setting in when the pain escalates. My arms flail around, smacking into the rock I'm sitting on in my frenzy. This vile thing is in my head, and its presence is tantamount to thousands of needles picking at my skull from the inside out.

My nails claw frantically at my skull, and I can't stop screaming now. Then suddenly, the pain stops. The misty wraith is no longer engulfing me, and I'm back in the darkness. My lungs greedily gulp in air, and I wheeze as oxygen floods back into my lungs. My throat is rough and scratchy from my screaming fit, and my vision is cloudy, probably for the same reason.

A ragged hack comes from my throat as I fill my lungs again and again, hoping the cloudiness of my eyes will go away soon.

* * *

><p>"Well, why don't you go with the army."<p>

I nod, happy that I'd be near Jaystorm. Maybe I can change the vision, maybe I can change what could happen. My thoughts are interrupted when I see Caspian shoot Peter an incredulous look. He looks angry, livid even. Before I can open my mouth to ask what the heck that was, he turned to me.

"You're going?" His voice is low and even a little dangerous.

"Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Are you out of your mind? It's far too dangerous - "

" - for a girl?" I snap, cutting him off.

"No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say it's too dangerous for you."

Peter opens his mouth, but not to defend me.

"Caspian has a point, Laurah. You only just learned to fight, and you've never been in a real battle."

"There's always a first time," I throw back, using his own words against him.

"That doesn't mean this has to be it! We'll be outnumbered, and what about the other night?" Caspian has raised his voice, sounding desperate to keep me here.

"That's no reason for me to stay behind! Besides, I'm supposed to be the girl from the stupid prophecy; how could I stay?" My voice is even louder than his now.

"Just because you are doesn't mean you have to die!"

"It's war Caspian, people are going to die no matter what!" We're both full-out shouting now.

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE ONE OF THEM!"

"And what would you have me do, sit here on my ass and do NOTHING?"

"I WANT YOU SAFE!"

"I DON'T WANT TO BE SAFE DAMMIT, I WANT TO FIGHT!"

"Why? Why do you have to go?" He's pleading with me now, shoulders slumped and eyes boring into mine.

"BECAUSE I HAVE TO TRY AND CHANGE IT!" I can't stop a few tears from leaking from my eyes.

"Please, just stay." He looks deep into my eyes, begging me.

"I'm going Caspian, and nothing will change that. Not you, not anyone!" I swat his hand away as he moves it toward my shoulder, probably to comfort me. Except I don't want any comforting from him right now.

* * *

><p>I shake my head vigorously as I come to, confused and dizzy. Where on earth did that memory come from?<p>

A strange sort of hazy pain registers from inside my head, and I hack raggedly. Then it's gone, and my bleary vision notices a thin stream of green mist leaving my mouth. It seems there are pictures in the wispy trail, but my eyes are too clouded over to make them out.

Before I can get my bearings again, I'm again flung out of consciousness.

* * *

><p>His smile blooms on his face, his white teeth contrasting sharply with his tanned skin. The light shining on him seems to come from the being by his side, a being who is walking hand-in-hand with him. Her face is hidden by the white-blonde hair falling over her cheek, but he brushes it back tenderly, eyes only on her. He loves her, it's plain.<p>

He leans down to press his lips against her hand, and a glint of gold flashes from her ring finger. She says something to him, something that makes him smile broadly and cup her face in his hands. On his left ring finger as well sits a ring. As he tilts his head, I can finally see his full profile.

"Caspian?"

* * *

><p>Tears slip down my cold cheeks as my sight fades back to reality. How much time has passed in Narnia since I left so abruptly? How long as it been since I left without a goodbye? Has he truly moved on?<p>

My eyes are still clouded over, and everything seems to be in some shade of green, but I can still see the engagement ring on my finger.

"Did you forget me?" My pained whisper cuts through the silence, torturing me more than anything I've seen so far.

I'm distracted from my pain for a moment as I hear the hissy laugh I've heard before from the mists. It brushes against my teeth for a second, and I realize there's still a thin trail of the stuff leaving my mouth. I cringe but don't close my mouth – I want that evil thing out of me, so I'm certainly not going to hinder its exit.

Somehow, I'm laying on my back again, so I sit back up on the rock, dreading whatever else this place will decide to show me.

* * *

><p><em>It's dark outside, and the only light is from the windows of the restaurant a little ways away. My boyfriend and I walk hand in hand along a little pathway winding through the woods just outside. The moon is shining brightly and reflects off of my shimmery top. It's been a perfect night.<em>

_He uses his hand to brush his long, dark hair back out of his face. His other hand holds mine, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. We walk along for a little bit before he stops and turns to face me. I turn towards him, wondering why he's moving closer to me._

_His face is now inches from mine and his free hand comes up to cup my face. Then I realize._

_'He's going to kiss me.'_

_I've never been kissed before - this would be my first. But it's okay. I trust him. He's a good guy, he just has a somewhat poor choice of friends. Just as I let my eyes slide shut, I hear something. A branch cracking under someone's foot._

_My eyes snap open and I try to turn my head to see who's there, but he won't let me._

_"What's going on?" I whisper, suspicion snaking through my voice._

_"Don't worry about it, it's nothing."_

_Call me crazy, but I know he's lying. I don't know how, but I just know. That's when I hear someone whispering. And the beep of a camera recording a video._

_I instantly push him away, just as his lips are a millimeter from mine._

_"Why is someone recording this?" I hiss at him, anger glinting in my eyes._

_Ever the suave one, he swaggers back up to me and puts an arm around my waist. "You're imagining things, Laurah. Just relax."_

_"They're your friends aren't they?"_

_"No, of course not. Why would my friends be here?" It didn't take a genius to see through his lie._

_"Oh I don't know, maybe to record you kissing me perhaps?" I remember how he'd been whispering with his friends a few days ago, when he thought I wasn't looking._

_"Why would they do that?"_

_"How many girls have you kissed before?"_

_"Why does that matter?"_

_"Have you been playing me from Day 1?" I don't want to think he was, I really don't. But I also remember how Nikki warned me about him when I'd agreed to go out with him. She'd told me he'd had dozens of girlfriends and that I was just another girl for him to toy with. I hadn't believed her then, but now I'm starting to._

_"Why are you getting all suspicious? Are you afraid of kissing someone?" He sounds like he's daring me to pull away, daring me to look like I'm scared._

_But if that's how he wants to play it, fine. "No, I'm not scared of kissing someone. I just don't want to kiss you."_

_I distinctly hear gasps and an "Oooooo!" from behind the trees, and that's all I need to confirm my suspicions. He hadn't taken me on a date because he liked me. He'd just wanted to prove he could kiss any girl he wanted, that he could make any girl fall for him. Heck, he probably asked me out on a dare! And his stupid friends want to get it all on tape._

_A look of pure rage crosses his face before he quickly gets it under control. But I can still see it in his eyes. I should be scared, but I'm too angry with him. The sick little..._

_"Alright guys, I think we're done here." His voice is cold and hard, not at all like the sweet voice he'd used with me all during dinner._

_"That was a bust!"_

_"Damn, did she just dump you?"_

_"No, dumping is my job," He retorts coolly. "I'll be along in a second."_

_I hear the miserable excuses for human beings he called his friends walk off in the direction of the parking lot. But he stays._

_Neither of us says anything._

_I can feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. He doesn't deserve to have me cry over him._

_The corner of his mouth twitches, the barely contained fury flashing in his eyes._

_1. . ._

_2. . ._

_3. . .SLAP!_

_The next thing I see is the ground. It takes me a minute to figure out what just happened. I raise a hand to my stinging cheek._

_"That should teach you your place, bitch." Venom seeps from his voice, and I can tell without looking that he's wearing an angry but self-satisfied smirk. Then, just like that, he turns and walks away._

_I don't move._

_I hear him drive away with his friends, laughing and hooting._

_I don't move._

_I see the restaurant owner switch off the lights in the restaurant._

_I don't move._

_I'm in shock. To shocked to cry, to shocked to yell, to shocked to do anything but lay there on the leaves._

* * *

><p>My ears have dried into salty, rough streaks on my face, and my fingers brush over the crusty trails, wiping the salt from my cheeks. I don't need to cry over this memory – he still isn't worth it. Still, it hurts. And I can't help but think I deserved that, for the pain my sudden departure must have caused Caspian.<p>

I want to remember something good, something happy, something beautiful – so my thoughts turn to that night Caspian knelt in front of me in the woods, joking yet serious. His eyes had sparkled with the boyish mischief and teasing I'd expect from a fellow teen, but there had been something underneath too. Back then, I hadn't dared to try to figure it out, but now I want to know.

I try my hardest to remember what his face looked like, but the memory I manage to conjure up is blurry at best. Focusing harder does no good, and suddenly, my head is empty. What was it I was trying to remember?

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog that has seemingly settled over my mind. Something isn't right, and it's like my own mind is slipping away from me.

"What are you doing to me?" I shriek into the nothingness.

I receive no answer other than more of its sinister whispering.

"What do you want?!"

"Shh, shh," soothes a comforting voice.

I spin around, searching for the speaker. Nothing. I'm about to scream in frustration again, but then I notice the faint glow emanating from my wrist. Ah, the bracelet. Quickly, I quiet myself to listen. I'm praying for another murmur of comfort, but none comes.

My head nods forward and I sink to my knees, curling up into myself. I'm frightened and confused and I want to go home, whether my true one in Narnia or my other with my adopted mom – I don't even care which it is, I just want to be out of this place, whatever it is.

"Please, tell me I'm not alone," I whisper to my bracelet, my only link to the outside world.

"Please, please say something."

I wait and wait, my elbows resting on my thighs as my head hangs. Time passes, an eternity or a minute I can't say. I wait as patiently as my frazzled mind will allow. Just as I think I'm about to snap, my prayers are answered.

"Take heart, daughter. You do not suffer alone."

It's a small comfort, but it's a comfort still.

"Thank you."

My lips touch the bracelet in a punctuation of my 'thank you,' then the glow stops. But I don't feel quite as alone as before.

* * *

><p><strong>Nikki POV<strong>

There's weird, gold light everywhere, and I'm holding on to Laurah's hand for dear life. I hope she isn't too angry that I decided to tag along, but I'm just not ready to say goodbye to the girl – we've been through thick and thin together, and why would that stop now?

Suddenly, her hand is torn from mine and I'm on my own in this strange stuff. My mouth opens to let out the scream I've been holding in for a while, but I end up coughing out salt water instead. Wait a minute, salt water? What in the name of-?

"Blech, acgh!" I spew out the brine-tasting water, only to find it up to my chin. It occurs to me I should swim, but I'm far too busy keeping this nastiness out of my lungs.

"Laurah, if you can hear me and this is a joke, you're dead, understand chica!" I sputter out in spite of my predicament.

I kick my legs as best I can, but the sweatpants I'm in keep dragging in the water.

"Blast these damned…pants!"

A splash sounds from a little ways away, but I don't care about whatever it is. I'm busy trying not to die of salt water intake here. But when a hand lands on my waist, I mind that very much.

"Hey, get your paws off me, you perv! Trying not to die here, now beat it!" I screech, spewing water from my mouth as a wave smacks into me. "And where in the name of chicostix did that come from?! Waves don't smack unless they're on a beach!"

"Easy miss, I'm only trying to help you," says the a male voice from behind me.

I swivel around as best I can in the water to face this creepo head on.

"Who put a mop on your head, kid?" This dude's hair is curly as in piglet-tail kind of curly, and it looks remarkably reminiscent of the rag mop my mom uses to mop the floor.

"I beg your pardon, miss?" he sputters, looking some mix of confused and annoyed.

"For what?"

This pipsqeak only stares at me as if I'm from another planet, so I roll my eyes in frustration and turn away.

"But um, miss?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you plan on being out here forever?"

"Out where? Oh, in the ocean? Oh I don't know, I kinda got THROWN in here and got separated from my BEST FRIEND, who is the dang king's FIANCEE!" My hollering makes me feel a bit better about this whole situation, but I'm still rather out of my zone, so to speak.

"You know the king's fiancée?" A glance over my shoulder shows me dinner plate sized eyes and a gaping jaw.

"Yeah, not only do I know her, she's the reason I'm even here! Of course it's my fault too come to think of it…I am the one who grabbed her hand after all, not vice versa, but oyu know there was a chance she might not come back and I couldn't let that be the last time I saw her and why in the name of blue chimpanzees am I telling you this?" What's gotten into me, spouting my life's troubles to some strange mop-headed guy? Maybe I've swallowed a little too much seawater…

"Well miss, you can talk to King Caspian about it if you like, but first perhaps we had better get you on board?"

"On board with what?" I look up from the water to see what he's talking about.

"In fact, it might be a good idea for us to get out of the way, miss."

I'm still scanning the area, wondering exactly how much rum this probably-sailor has consumed. Then my eyes land on something very big and moving this way very quickly. Ah, so that's what he was rambling about.

"Yeah, you might be right about that. I didn't come all this way to be pancaked by a ship."

"This way then, miss."

"Could you quit with the 'miss' thing? It's kinda weird, no offense," I mumble as I doggie-paddle toward the old-timey looking ship. Why does it have purple sails? Don't all those big ships in ye old days have white ones?

"I suppose…?" he says over his shoulder.

"Awesomeness. And what's up with the purple sails? Isn't white a little more…normal?" I pant, trying to keep up. I'm not a horrible swimmer, but this dude's a freaking fish!

"Purple is the color of royalty." He's nice enough to slow down while I paddle my way along.

"Oh yeah, it is isn't it? Wow Nikki, blonde moments!"

"Who is Nikki?"

"Uh, me."

"Ah, my apologies m-"

"Weren't we going to drop the miss?"

"My apologies." By now we're come up alongside the ship, where two ropes hang from its side into the water. "Hang on to the rope."

I do as I'm told, biting back whatever sarcastic response was ready to roll off my tongue in favor of trying not to be bashed to bits on the side of the ship. "Hey, what gives?" I complain as he puts his hand on the side of my waist. I'm a big fan of the 'personal bubble' around strangers.

"I am only trying to help you balance."

"Balance? What for, we aren't going anywh- Whoa!" Suddenly, the wooden plank we're standing on is lifted from the water up toward the ship's deck, and I almost lose my footing – only the hand on my waist keeps me balanced. "Alright, I see what you meant," I concede grudgingly.

When the plank gets even with the deck, I step off with the help of the guy whose name I still don't know, aka MopMan.

"She knew Laurah, My Liege," MopMan spits out before I can even take a good look around.

So I ignore him and scan the crowd gathering around us. No Laurah, so obviously I don't know anyone here. And…is that a bull?

"You knew Laurah?" A tall, dark-haired man with the beginnings of a beard has appeared in front of me and looks some mix of hopeful and pained.

"Correction señor, I know her, present tense. I take it you're Caspian, her dearly beloved?"

He looks positively shell-shocked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"What, cat got your tongue Your Highness?" I say, trying to cover up the giggles tickling at my throat. This fish-impression is most amusing indeed.

"Is…is she alright? When did you see her last?" His voice is barely audible, so it takes me a minute to get what he's saying.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, I think she's okay. I mean, she was before we got separated anyway. She couldn't want to see you, I tell you! After over a year away from you, she's still positively love-struck. Oh, but I saw her last just a short while ago. She was going to come back here you see, and I wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to my best friend, so I went with her. Everything was cool at first, but then something happened, and she went one way and I went another."

"Do you have any idea where she is now? Any at all?"

"If I did, I'd have said so, chico. Hey, you look older than she described you. How long has it been here? You know, since she left?"

"Three years," Caspian answers hollowly, sadness heavily apparent in his eyes and voice.

"Yikes. Well, she can only be so many places, right? Who knows, maybe we'll bump into her," I spout optimistically.

"I hope you are right. Forgive me, but you are?"

"Nikki, official best friend of your fiancée, aka Laurah, or chica in cases of affectionate nicknames." Ah, I miss that girl already – I hope she's okay, come to think of it.

"And am I correct in guessing that you share Laurah's disdain for formalities?"

"Dude, I'm from the 21st century – of course I do."

"Then we all shall keep that in mind. Men, this young lady is Nikki."

A chorus of polite hellos ensues, and I wave back with a grin. Almost everyone has beards, and it's kinda adorable in a teddy-bear sort of way. A boy and girl walk forward from the crowd, and they seem to be closer to my age.

"Lucy, Edmund, this is Nikki, Laurah's best friend. Nikki, meet Queen Lucy the Valiant, and King Edmund the Just. Did Laurah explain Narnia's history to you?"

"Yup, down to the last detail. The two of you are from the Golden Age, and you, Caspian, are a Telmarine, yes?"

A nod from all three of them confirms my question. I'm suddenly at a loss of what to say, but a loud whoosh from overhead distracts me.

"Um, what was that y'all?"

"Oh, that's our cousin, Eustace. He's been turned into a dragon," explains the brown-haired, freckled girl called Queen Lucy.

"Ah, okay a drag-Wait, a DRAGON?!" Now I'm sure it's my eyes that look like dinner plates. Do I have seawater stuck in my ears, or did she just say d-r-a-g-o-n, as in dragon?

"No need to worry, he won't harm us," Edmund assures me.

"Well, that's good news at least. Now, where are we going in this purple-sailed ship?"

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><p><strong>Another chapter, done and dusted! Expect the next in another 3 to 4 days ;)<strong>

**And reviews are certainly welcome! :D**


	11. Chapter 10

**Wow, I'm pumping the chapters out! This is what happens when I give my boyfriend Restaurant Crawls for NaNo! xD This feels amazing! I am invincible! Haha not really, but it feels like it! Once again, a special thank you to all my reviewers, you all are simply fantastic!**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Hahaha awww, that's some combo of hilarious and cute-in-a-little-kid-sorta-way! xD  
>And yes, she certainly is! Especially since she's 'out of her element' so to speak. (Haha accidentally wrote pout instead of out first time I typed that).<br>As for Laurah...maybe this chapter will help you understand a bit more ;) But worst-case scenario? Oh my! (And yes, haven't we missed the man?! 8D)  
>And thank you very much! :D and also congrats on being the first to review for 2 chapters in a row! ;)<strong>

**Evy201 - She does, doesn't she? Kept that chapter from being too down-in-the-dirt dark. xP  
>Me? Do that? Well now that you've given me the idea...XD<br>And yes, Caspian. :P Isn't he wonderful? *stares dreamily off into space* xD  
>And thank you, I shall try! :D<strong>

**Lady Firewing - Gotta love those runaway characters! Actually, you can pat yourself on the back, as you were the one to first suggest it. ;)**

**Garideth - Haha you have a point...she's like a trouble magnet! ...Or maybe I just enjoy putting her through a lot. Because I'm just evil like that! MWAHAHAHAHA! xD  
>And good, she just strikes me as the sort of character to be like that. :P<br>And yep, they're finally back in the story! Still, absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? XD  
>(Mmmm, right you are :P)<strong>

**IsThatBloodInYourMustache - Awww, thankees my dear! I have been off the game for a bit, but thank heaven for NaNoWriMo! xD And don't worry, I am getting my sleep. ;)  
>And I'm glad you liked Nikki! :D<strong>

**The Disclaimer of Once-Epic-But-Not-So-Epic-Anymore Proportions: Do I own Narnia? No. Do I own Narnia? No. Do I own Narnia? No. Is anyone still asking me this deaf? Yeah, probably.**

**Enjoy the chapter, you wonderful readers!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

It feels like it's been days since I've seen the sun. My stomach is beginning to shrink and I can feel my ribs starting to be taut against my skin. I've always been slender, so the effects of no food show rather quickly. The strange shrieks and cries I heard when I first got here come sporadically, sometimes waking me from my restless sleep, and sometimes simply distracting me from my growing melancholy. I wonder if I should try to say something to whatever it is, but I'm growing more afraid of it every day. Even if it is actually human, it's so far removed from any trace of sanity that it may as well be another thing conjured up by the mist that's everywhere in here.

After those three dreams, visions, or whatever they were, the mist has mostly left me alone. I still can't see very well at all, so I don't know if it's lurking nearby, waiting for something, or if it's still leaving my mouth. Every now and then I'll feel a tickle in my throat, so it probably still is.

I have no idea why it didn't just leave my head in one big sweep, but I'm too hungry and tired and sore from laying on this rock to care. I don't know why I'm here, and I can only hope that somehow, I'll get out of here soon. I'd start swimming now, but it's so dark I have no idea which way is out.

All of a sudden, my vision is flooded with green, and even as I fight to stay aware, my consciousness slips away.

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><p>Bodies. Bodies everywhere, and I'm outside the Telmarine city walls. They...they...I can barely think coherently. How could they? I've always known Telmarines weren't exactly kind-hearted, but to just...to just dump the dead bodies outside the city walls? Tears stream down my face in outrage. I'd known so many of these Narnians, had laughed with them, trained alongside them, gone to battle with them. I'd come to think of the Narnians as a kind of second family, and now here so many of them lay, dead.<p>

The sun is rising, a red sun. How appropriate; it signified the amount of blood spilled last night. I want to do something, but I know I don't have time to bury them all, so I do the only thing I can: I grow one of my little white flowers next to each of them.

* * *

><p>I feel myself freeze, my blood running cold through my veins. This was not part of the plan. Who could have raised the alarm? How had they been awake to do so? This is horrible, now there will be no surprise attack, and I see the likelihood of my vision coming true increasing with every passing second.<p>

I have to stop this, but how? HOW? I can feel a panic setting in, but I quickly regain control of myself. A panic attack would do nothing to help. I'll be able to help them best if I'm calm and collected. I find myself praying for help. I know I won't be able to do this alone. I focus on two things only: breathing steadily and staying on Asha.

"Asha, once you get me there, I want you to run for the woods. Don't wait for me, okay?"

She turns her head slightly, looking at me with the utmost disapproval, but she knows I won't have it any other way and that there's little to nothing she can do to help, so she bobs her head a little in obedience.

We're now quite close, within a quarter of a mile and I see a light flashing the signal to the troops to attack. This is it. If I'm lucky, I'll have a good 10 or 15 minutes before the gate comes down. I see the troops surge forward, charging across the bridge and into the courtyard. My heart does a little leap of fear, but I refuse to do anything but focus on what I need to do.

But it seems like the faster Asha runs, the farther away the gate becomes. After what feels like a hundred lifetimes, she flies onto the bridge and in seconds I'm in the middle of a fierce battle. I jump off her and into action as she wheels around and gallops away, just as I'd told her to. But I have little time to celebrate that at least my horse is safe.

Almost the very same second I draw my swords, a soldier attacks me. I trust my body to remember, and it does not fail me. My blades flash through the air faster then I've ever been able to swing a normal sword, cutting down my opponent in seconds. I frantically search for my friends, feeling relief sweep over me when I spot them, though their faces are blurred. There's someone I don't see, but I can't remember who.

But I have no time to think any more as I fight off soldier after soldier. Several times I vaguely feel one of their swords slicing through my skin, but the wounds are never serious enough to merit attention. My own swords do their job well, their size working in my favor. They're much lighter than the clunky swords my opponents fight with, and they are thin enough that sometimes the soldier doesn't even see it flashing toward him until it's too late.

Through the sounds of the raging battle, I distinguish a familiar voice, yelling as he or she cuts down a soldier. Again, the name escapes me and I can barely make out the outline. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see the glint of metal swinging right at my throat. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I've spun around to face it and thrown the upper half of my body back, arching my back painfully. I snap myself upright once more to fight off the three soldiers attacking me. I hiss in pain as one of their blades cuts deep into my thigh, several curses escaping my lips.

"Archers!" a rough voice calls. I finish my opponents as quickly as I can, buying myself enough time to glance up.

"Oh no..." I whisper, my heart stopping. The archers are lining up all around the courtyard, one level up. Not now, please not now! But the gate is still open.

I hear an archer shout and watch him as he falls through the air. Someone has knocked him over the railing. I notice the other archers on the upper level looking at him, and just as I open my mouth to scream a warning, another beats me to it and whoever it is manages to dodge the arrows and slip into a hallway, closing the door behind him. My attention turns to a man standing on a high balcony, who looks to be the one in charge. A blurry figure sees him as well and begins making his way upward, no doubt to try and kill him. My only guess is that the man is Miraz.

As I fight on, a satyr vaults upward and grabs onto the railing of the balcony where Miraz stood. The satyr raises his sword, only to drop it after crying out in pain. My heart clenches as I see the arrow protruding from its shoulder. In a single cold push, Miraz sends the satyr tumbling down to the far away ground. Anger momentarily blinds me, which I put to good use in fighting the many soldiers who attacks me repeatedly. In the midst of it all, I somehow see Miraz point at the gate.

_No, no, no, please NO!_

What could I do? Wait, I'm supposed to save someone! Where is he?

After a moment, I spot him fighting off two soldiers, but he's on the opposite end of the courtyard from the gate. In that split second, I hear a loud bang as a concrete weight plummets down onto the cobblestones.

_The weight. The weight holding the gate open._

Without another thought, I spring toward the tall figure, fighting with a ferocity I didn't know I had in me. I hear a yell for everyone to fall back. I'm running out of time. He's too far away. I vaguely see someone run toward the stables, but I know he hasn't seen me, and I'm thankful for that at least.

I scream a name. He's fighting off 6 soldiers. It's just like in my vision. NO! I have to help him, I will help him, even if it costs me my own life! I throw myself into one of the 6, screaming at him to run for the gate as I did. He will not die here, not if I have any say in the matter.

"Laurah? What the devil are you doing here?" He yells as we fight off the soldiers.

"Later, just get out now! I'll take care of these soldiers, just go!" Only three remain.

"But - "

"GO! I'll catch up!" All that matters is that he lives. I see a minotaur holding the gate open and pray for him to have strength as I see him struggle with it. The tall, half-horse figure is already making his way over there and I've finally finished off the other 3 soldiers. Shapes are racing out of the courtyard and I follow the retreating army in running toward the gate. It's across the courtyard and I keep having to stop and fight.

A small group of men are on Miraz's balcony, one holding his hand up, ready to give the signal to fire. I catch sight of another very blurry figure on a horse and leading one for someone else. I'm careful to stay out of his line of sight, though I can't remember why it's so important that I do.

Someone is running alongside the spare horse as my ears distinguish a harsh voice.

"Now!"

_NO!_

Arrows begin raining down, one piercing the Minotaur's thigh. I continue fighting my way toward the gate, praying for everyone to make it out alright. Some have already made it through, thankfully. The figure I was trying to save is almost to the gate.

Three figures are galloping toward the gate on their horses, and they're very close. Another arrow hits the Minotaur. Just at that moment, I see the half-horse make it through, and tears of joy spill out of my eyes. I've done it. He's safe. He is closely followed by the three figures. More tears of relief fall out of my eyes as I race toward the gate. I only have a few yards to go.

Suddenly, the Minotaur falls to the ground, trapped beneath the gate. He is dead. Half of the army is still here, trapped in the castle courtyard. The hiss of arrows flying through the air fills my ears, cries of pain and desperation drowning out all thought. Everywhere I look I see death. I want to scream, to cry, to do anything but just stand there but I can't; the horror of it all has rooted me to my spot. This is a slaughter. My heart shatters with every arrow that pierced another figure, with every new corpse I see fall to the ground.

And suddenly, my body experiences the worse pain I've ever felt in my life.

It hurts so much. Too much. Too much to even make a sound.

I feel my body hit the ground and see blood flooding over the cobblestones. My blood. The arrow has buried itself into my heart. I feel a welcoming darkness descending on me, and, after one last shuddering breath, I surrender to it.

* * *

><p>As I return to myself again, my body shakes almost uncontrollably - I can still feel the arrow in my heart, but this time I have no comfort in death. The pain doesn't leave, and I remain conscious enough to feel it, every agonizing and feeble pulse of my heart.<p>

I can't scream, and as even when I try, I choke on my own breath and the mist still trickling out of me. A gag escapes me, but it does no good. So I try to lay as still as possible, even as the pain escalates.

It's almost like someone is twisting and turning the arrow as it remains embedded in my heart, but I can see nothing protruding from my chest. My body writhes as I feel the arrowhead being slowly pulled from me, and I can't help the short scream that escapes my chapped lips.

Finally, after far too much pain, it's gone, and I sob in relief. In the midst of my confusion and relief, I'm hoping I won't have any more frightening or horrific visions or memories for a while, and I turn my thoughts to my real family - the sprites. The same night the raid happened is also the night I first met them.

I remember how wondrous it was, walking through the woods and seeing them all fall in beside me, hearing their – our – song drifting up through the evening air, the light emanating from all of us. Even the physical change that happened to me, even the pale green hair I used to think strange is something I now treasure. I wish I could have it back, come to think of it.

But would I even be accepted among them now? Something is changing me, and my mind slips away more with each passing minute. What if every last piece of my sanity is lost in this place of torment? That question echoing in my mind, my consciousness again fades to black.

* * *

><p>"Daddy?" I take a hesitant step toward the drunken man stumbling around toward my dad's beat up car. The man is tall like my dad, bulky like my dad, has olive skin like my dad, has black hair like my dad. I know what my dad looks like, and this man – he's definitely him. He can't even walk straight and his grey eyes are glazed over.<p>

"Daddy..." I call out to him just as I used to when I was a little girl, and I fight tears as I cautiously walk up to him; he's walking so slowly that I catch up quickly. He doesn't seem to hear me, but whenever he's like this, he usually doesn't.

Wobbling drunkenly as he tries to stand still, my dad fumbles with the car keys, only to drops them on the black asphalt of the parking lot outside the bar. I cringe as he spits out a string of foul curses, but I bend down to pick up the keys before he can. He's in no condition to drive, and I am going to do my best to make sure he doesn't. Drunk or not, this is my father and that fact alone demands that I do something. The whole thing is a little ironic though; isn't it usually the father who protects his children, not the other way around?

My fingers should wrap around the cold metal of the keys, but they don't. They **can't**. I should be able to pick up the keys, but I can't. My hand passes through them like I am a ghost, a specter. My blood freezes in my veins as I begin to panic. If I don't get those keys away, my dad will pick them up, and he'll try to drive.

My hands clutch ever-more frantically at the keys, tears of fear, frustration, and confusion streaming down my face. A strangled sob tears out of my throat when my dad's hand closes around the metal things, and somehow he manages to get the car door unlocked. Dread wells up in the pit of my stomach; if he tries to drive like this…he could die.

"Daddy, stop!"

He doesn't even hear me – or if he does, he completely ignores my plea.

Thinking fast, my brain somehow figures out that if my hand could go through the keys, I can probably go through the car door. I silently pray I'm right as I leap forward at the door just as my dad starts to pull away.

I hold my breath as everything seems to go by in slow motion, the car door coming ever closer to my face. I squeeze my eyes shut, and then a moment later…success! I'm in the back seat, and I jerk back against the back rest as my dad slams on the accelerator.

"Stop the car, Daddy." My voice is a hundred times calmer than I feel. My dad doesn't even seem to hear, again.

"Daddy? Daddy! Stop driving! Pull over!" Why can't he hear me?

My heart leapts into my throat as I sit up to see that we're in the wrong lane – and we are heading straight for a truck. My dad doesn't seem to care, or even notice. A horn blares in my ears, though I have a distinct feeling my dad won't even notice this either. I try to scream, but no sound escapes my lips. I can do nothing but stare straight ahead at the headlights of the truck loom ever closer, until the blinding white light envelopes the windshield and I hear a loud crash. Before I have a chance to even react at all, it all fades away into nothing.

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><p>"Why? Why do you show me this?" I cry, wiping away the stupid tears from my eyes. "What have I done to deserve this? I did my best to save him! I tried to save him, I almost saved him!"<p>

"Tried isn't good enough, sweetie. Almost isn't good enough."

I bolt upright as my mom's voice wafts into my ears as her face – in a shade of wispy, misty green – floats around my head, and then I truly understand how wrong I am. I do deserve this; I deserve this and more. It doesn't matter how hard I tried. The fact of the matter is that someone is dead because me, because I acted rashly. Worse, that someone is my father. I deserve this and more.

I want to think of something good to prove that all isn't darkness and pain and loss, but I can barely remember the heart-to-heart I had with my dad. I remember he was gruff at first, and I remember feeling slightly afraid of him, but almost everything else escapes me. I know there was more, I know he must have been sorry and he must shown it, but I can't remember. He must have said he still loved my mom, but I just can't remember, I can't conjure up any of the positive things. It's like they've been deleted from my memories.

"What are you doing to me?" I whimper, holding my head in my hands as I sink down and draw my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth.

I get no answer, other than a low chuckle and hiss. Vaguely, it registers that the mist only comes out of my mouth sporadically now, rather than in a constant stream. Perhaps it's already taken all it can take without killing me.

Crying seems absolutely pointless, but I'm slowly learning not to care. It doesn't matter anyhow – there's no one here to see me. Besides that, I have to have some way of letting it out. I don't deserve to be able to cry then, but so far the mists have left me with that much, and I'm weak enough to simply cave. I'm taking what I don't deserve, in the simple and small release that tears bring.

Yet again, mist floods my mouth, nose, every part of me. And this time, I don't fight it. I deserve whatever it decides to show me.

* * *

><p>"Hi Dad, do you want dinner?" I call, hoping he could hear me above the sounds of the TV coming from his room.<p>

When he doesn't answer, I shrug and put my dance bag in my room before heading over to his and mom's room to ask him again. Knocking gently before I enter, I wince at the violence that's playing on the television screen. Having been in actual battles tends to change one's perspective on seeing them on a TV show. I wish that's the only thing that makes me flinch.

My dad is lounging on the bed texting someone, and I can tell from the guilt on his face that he attemptes– almost successfully – to conceal and my own gut that it was most definitely not an innocent text, and nor was it even to my mom. It crosses my mind to say something, but for once I decide to let him explain himself without any prompting from me. I don't, however, try to hide the disappointment and controlled anger that has taken up residence on my face.

"You just going to stand there with that tragic look on your face, kid?"

"Yeah, I think I am. I'll let you do the talking this time." And just as I spit out those words, I notice two things sitting on the nightstand next to the bed: a glass and a mostly empty bottle of whiskey. Besides that, my dad is dressed like…like he's going out for a night at the club.

Before this observation really has time to register, my anger is quickly turned to fear as my dad turns red with fury, his yelling voice making my ears ring.

"And just **who** do you think you are, hm? Don't forget who's the grown-up here, little girl."

"Then act like one," I whisper, shocking even myself at my audacity. This is the angriest I've ever seen him, and here I am, back-talking with my chin held high. But even if I'm afraid, I'll be damned before I show it.

My dad splutters and fumes, trying to spit out a retort, but he wobbles drunkenly the instant his feet touch the floor.

_But…he'd promised. He'd promised he wouldn't get himself drunk. He promised…_

But despite the tiny voice that babbles on in my head, utterly shocked that he's broken his promise, I keep myself standing up straight, refusing to cower as he screams and roars his fury barely four inches from my face. Is this what my mother used to put up with? Small wonder she feared him, if this was how he'd been with her before our heart-to-heart. But hadn't that meant anything? It had to me…I'd forgiven him during that talk.

I clench my jaw as I fight to keep up my expressionless façade, even as my dad continues shouting in my face. Whatever he's saying doesn't register in my mind; I'm far too busy wondering why he's changed so suddenly back into the old him. At least, nothing registers except for one thing: when he screams that he's getting out of here. And suddenly, I know.

He moves toward the door, but I find enough courage to step in front of him, my eyes pleading him to calm down.

"Out of my way!"

I flinch a little, but shake my head.

"Please Daddy, don't-"

I never get to finish.

One second I'm standing right in front of my dad, asking him not to go. The next I find that my head has snapped to the side – hard. For a moment, I can't figure out why the side of my face hurts so bad. And just as I realize, my breath is knocked out of my chest as my ribcage connects with the side of the doorframe, the side of my head swiftly following suit. I cry out in pain as my sprained wrist hits the wood. Just as my vision fades into black, I see my dad step over me and slam the front door closed as he leaves. And two words rang through my head right before I lose consciousness.

_You promised._

* * *

><p>I can't move. There's no purpose in it. How many times will my heart have to break while I'm in here?<p>

"Daddy, I…I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…I should have held my tongue, I should have…I should have…" I can't think what else I should have done, but I know this is my fault. I failed my dad, I failed my mom – I failed them both so badly, and there's no way to fix it. Dead is dead. It seems as though death is the only real thing in the world, and life is just a cruel joke, an eggshell gift just waiting to be snatched away.

Is there anything good to be had, in any world? No matter how hard I try, I can only see and think and remember darkness. I can only feel pain, and I can only remember pain. It feels as though I've always been here, in this place of all things evil and sad. I deserve this, for failing. I do, I really really do.

But yet, if I concentrate hard enough, I can think of one good thing: my sprite family, my mother, my sister. Other than them, nothing. Still, I can't shake the feeling I'm missing something important, that I'm forgetting someone special. Who is it? Who have I forgotten?

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><p><strong>Well I did not expect that to be an all-Laurah chapter, but what do ya know? Ah well, that's just fine, I enjoyed listening to epically depressing music all day! xD<strong> **Chapter 11 should be up in a matter of days ;)**

**And if you've got the time or desire to leave some feedback, that'd be awesome! :D**


	12. Chapter 11

**First of all, Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed! It's seriously the highlight of my day to see all the feedback! :D So just know you are doing so much to keep me motivated and writing like a maniac, just from stopping by!  
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**And about the late update: Well, I actually had this written right on schedule, but my parents decided to cut off the Internet, and then I was out of town for the weekend...so my apologies :/  
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**NymphadoraLupin98 - Haha the sorcery was intense NaNo spirit xD And loads of coffee...But Awesome! Haha that'll be pretty cool ;)  
>Well, remember she was just telling Laurah she wasn't alone, which doesn't mean she caused the bad stuff, only that she felt sorry for her daughter. It's the mist making Laurah forget ;)<br>And thank you very much, I do try to up the quality of my writing :) And I know right? Caspian is wonderful! xD  
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**chibimaker - Poor Laurah indeed :] And sorry about those spelling errors, I'll try to be better about checking for them in future ;) And thank you, I will, until I finish my series. Then I'll have to rest for a bit xD  
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**Garideth - Hahaha oops, I guess it just sorta happened that way. :P  
>And yep, that's what I meant. Tragic, huh? But hey, I'm not one for totally-happy-endings xD<br>You hate her? But it's the mist that's responsible for Laurah's misery...;)  
>Haha yes, yes, all three xD<br>**

**Evy201 - Mmhm, I've been planning this for a while. :] But hating the mother? Why? It's the mist that's responsible ;)  
>And that should be coming soon! In the next update or two ;)<br>**

**Gentle Blossom - Wow, well thank you very much my dear! 8D That's one of the sweetest reviews I've gotten! Ad don't worry, the prologue will indeed be explained: in due time ;)  
>Hope you like this next update too! :D<br>**

**Asiangurl - Well thank you! I did try to make this different from the other stories :D A small idea morphed into a 3 or 4 story series!  
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**Still another disclaimer...so I don't own Narnia, mmkay? ;)  
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**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

**Nikki POV**

"So, why is it so important we follow this blue star?" Maybe it was just me, but it sounded a little too fantasy-story-smothered-in-cheese-and-cliché to be true.

"The star will lead us to Ramandu's Island, which is where we have to lay the 7 swords at Aslan's Table. I guess you missed that part?" Lucy grins, shooting me a knowing sideways glance.

"Well it was really long for a 'brief summary of events' and it rather reminded me of my Physics teacher's nonstop blathering…with the exception that no one on this ship is quite that yawn-worthy."

Lucy lets out a short peal of laughter at my somewhat skewed comparison, saying, "You're quite lively, Nikki, especially considering the situation."

"Situation? That sounded fantastically like a dose of Tom Cruise yumminess in Mission Impossible. Please excuse me while I sink into fangirl daydreams," I chime, resting my weight on my forearms that've been perched on the railing.

"Tom Cruise? I haven't heard of him…"

"He's from my time, 21st century in Earth, USA. Some people aren't fond of him, but I love that man!" My eyes drift half closed, visions of the kick-butt movie star as Ethan Hunt dancing through my head.

"You're in love with him?" Lucy asks confusedly.

"Oh no, not like 'in love' kind of love, I mean love in the fangirl 'He's so hot' sense."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," chuckles the girl, shaking her head and staring out at the sea below.

"That's to be expected, I guess. Did they have any big movie stars or something of the like back in England, somewhere in the 1900s?"

"The focus was on the war, so I don't think there was a whole lot of that. Posters were all around, but they were about joining the troops in the war." Lucy's tone has shifted, betraying a little sadness.

After a moment of silence, I turn a little more serious too.

"Lucy?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sad about the war, or because you miss England?"

"I…well, I suppose it's a bit of both."

"…I'm sorry." A curious look greets me. "No really, I am. Homesick isn't fun, I know."

"You know firsthand, or you saw it in Laurah?"

"The latter. If I hadn't felt so sorry for that chica, I'd have smacked her upside the head and called her a lovesick, pining puppy. Though actually, come to think of it, I might have actually called her that…" Did I? The phrase sounds familiar, so I probably did at some point.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised I'd say that to my best friend.

"Hakuna matata, we joke around all the time. In fact, of all the many things we say to each other, only about .78% of it is actually serious," I chuckle, picking at a small splinter in the wooden rail.

"You miss her, don't you?"

"Yeah, even though it's only been maybe 24 hours. Besides, I was counting on having the fun of teasing her about Caspian! Catching a small PDA would be perfect blackmailing material."

"You know, she sounds like more of a sister than a friend," Lucy laughs.

"She might as well be, come to think of it. Hey, what's that?" My attention turns from the small talk to a glassy figure bobbing in the water a little ways off.

"It's a mermaid!" Lucy rushes to the rail, smiling fondly at the, in my opinion odd-looking, little creature and letting out a little chuckle.

Strangely, the girl's grin turns to a more serious face as she continues gazing at the – dare I say the word – mermaid. It looks like it's trying to give more of a warning than a friendly 'hello.' After shaking its head and frantically motioning, it dives into a wave, leaving both me and Lucy puzzled, and maybe even a little worried.

"Um, what exactly are we going into, Lucy?"

"I don't think we know."

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><p>After that reassuring little conclusion, I head out to the main deck and Lucy heads to her quarters to spend some time with Gael, a cute little girl who apparently stowed away because she didn't want to be left behind when her dad – Rhince I think his name is – joined the crew to look for his wife. According to him, she was taken by this mysterious mist stuff that's apparently causing all sorts of trouble around here.<p>

"If I get any hungrier, I'm gonna eat that dragon!" I hear a crewmember grouch, shooting a glare up at the dragon-I've-been-told-is-Eustace.

"Don't worry Eustace, they'll have to deal with me first," says a mouse with a voice far too deep for such a cute little guy who's perched on the dragon's – Eustace's – head, hanging onto a horn-type-thing. "Whoaa! Careful!"

I hide a snicker, muttering, "I can't imagine dragon tastes very good – probably all smoky, like some exotic kind of jerky that spent too much time romancing chimneys."

Several crewmembers, the captain included, shoot me dry looks, to which I respond with a shrug and a "Whaaaat?"

Captain Drinian – by the way, what's up with all the weird names around here? – walks up to the upper deck, remarking, "If we don't find land by tonight they may well eat that-"

I let out a shriek as the ship suddenly lurches, throwing everyone to the deck either face-first or bottom-first and effectively cutting off the good captain.

"Everybody run, it's a tsunami!" I yell, scurrying to my feet in spite of the still-unsettled ship. "Ooooo, now I'm getting seasick…is anyone else experiencing the sudden urge to puke?"

"What did we hit?" the captain asks urgently, quickly getting to his feet with Caspian's help.

"How about Vomit Lake City?" I groan, leaning over the side of the ship to empty my stomach. Whatever we hit, the sudden lurch isn't at all agreeable with my sometimes queasy stomach.

I'm joined against the railing by basically everyone on deck, all craning to see why we're suddenly moving.

"Eustace, that's brilliant!" I hear Edmund exclaim, and a cheer goes up from the entire crew.

"Ungh, fantastic," I offer, giving a wavery thumbs up to no one in particular.

"Are you alright miss?"

"Hey, it's you again!" I grin through my nausea. "I never got your name, and I don't think MopMan is a good enough substitute. Whatcha called, chico?"

"I'm assuming you want to know my name, which is Sadrian. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am." He bows slightly, though a playful smile shows through the formal façade.

"Cool, another exotic name. I'm Nikki, if you didn't know that already." Just then, I notice what everyone else noticed minutes ago. "Oh, Eustace is pulling the ship! Awful nice of him!"

"Yes, he is. I must say, you seem be in a much brighter mood now, milady."

"Oh no, none of that formality stuff. Nikki is just fine, or Chiquita, or any other scrap of español you can think of."

"I think Nikki is much easier to pronounce," he laughs, his sandy curls blowing across his face in the sudden breeze.

Unfortunately for me, my seasickness returns with the odd motions of the ship.

"Please excuse me one moment while I barf my brains out," I moan, most likely with a cartoonishly green face, as I lean over the ship railing.

"Not used to being on a ship?"

"I'm cool with ships, it's the ships pulled by dragons that seem to cause me trouble. Well that and biology class. Icky frogs, why did we dissect thee?"

"How did the conversation go from ships to frogs, may I ask?"

"It's a girl-brain thing. See, girls' brains are like spaghetti, all twisted and everything intertwined. Guys' brains are more like waffles, all organized into boxes. Make sense?"

"I am sure it would, if I had any idea what spaghetti or waffles were."

I can't answer right away, as emptying my queasy stomach yet again is, quite frankly, more important than spaghetti or waffles. Oooo, thinking of food….so not smart, Nikki!

"You look ill, mis- Nikki. Shall we get you below deck?"

"If you feel like mopping every five seconds, please, feel free," I grouse. The odd angle of the ship and my resulting seasickness from the strange motion has me in a very sour mood, no pun intended.

"Mopping up what?"

"My v-"

"Nikki? Is something the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing at all Lucy dear. Other than the fact I am being violently sick over the side of this blasted, seasickening ship, I couldn't be better. How goes it with you?"

"Here, I have something that can help," she kindly offers, shooting me a sympathetic smile as she leads me to the cabin she shares with Gael.

"Oooo, Luce, you might want to get that whatever-it-is soon, or I'm gonna…gonna-"

Luckily for the both of us, she's over in a flash, pouring a drop of some red liquid into my mouth. It tastes rather odd at first, but it's only mildly spicy, not unpleasant per se. However, it takes care of my barfing problem within seconds.

"Well hot doggie dang, that stuff is amazing!" I shout. "I am a new woman, refreshed and roaaaring to go!"

"I'm…glad it helped?" Lucy seems to be entirely at a loss for words, especially with my spastic dancing around the room.

"I FEEL ALIIIIIVE!"

"Um, Lu? Is everything…alright in here?" Edmund pokes his head inside, looking some combination of scared, worried, and confused.

"It is more than ALRIGHT, mis amigos, it is SPECTACULAR!" I holler as I twirl around, teetering and tottering from my momentum.

"…Lu, is there any rum in that cordial?"

"Edmund! Of course there isn't!" Lucy screeches, half indignantly, half laughingly.

"Well mateys, I think I'll get me some fresh sea salt air! Caio for now, chiquitos!" With that, I waltz out of the cabin and out into the daylight, the lurching of the ship no longer posing a problem.

"Nikki? What on earth is going on?" Caspian strides up to me in a hurry, no doubt having heard my antics from inside the cabin. Hey, that cordial stuff is pure awesome! I can't help it if I'm freakin' out like a schoolgirl with an ice cream cone!

"I, good sir and fiancée dearest of, soon to be hubby dearest of, my bff, am a NEW WOMAN! I am refreshed! I am replenished! I am rawring to go! Now where is this mist? I gonna kick me some green misty bootay!"

"Perhaps it would be best if you rested for a little while, Nikki," Caspian lays a land on my shoulder, looking frightened and amused of me.

"But I don't WANNA go to bed, Papita dearest! I wanna breathe in the sweet perfume of the sea, feel the wind chucking through, I mean, whipping though, my hair! I want to make like Pocahontas and see the land come into sight perched on the bow of this vessel! There are worlds to explore, rum runners to terrorize, and whatevers to nommmy nom nom!"

"Nikki, I'm afraid I must insist you take some time below deck."

"But whyyyyy?" I whine. Why must he spoil my fun? I feel fantabulous!

"Because I don't want you accidentally falling overboard or doing something, forgive me, exceedingly foolish."

"Foolish? Perish the thought!" I exclaim loudly. Still, I grudgingly obey, but only because Laurah would back him up if she were here. Either that, or she's be just as psyched out as me. Come to think of it, probably the latter. Nonetheless, I still do as I'm told. Never mind that I grumble incoherently the whole way down.

I stay down below deck until my wired nerves have calmed down to a normal level – well, normal for me anyways.

"Hellooo, y'all, I return from the deep, dark abyss!" I climb up the stairs and onto deck, only to hear a collective cheer go up.

"Awww, you sweetie pies! You couldn't have missed me that much."

"Land ho, Nikki."

My shoulders slump as I turn to the side to face Sadrian. "…Oh."

"No need to be sad, I am sure they did miss you, at least a bit."

"You're not helping, Mr. Mop-of-Curls," I mumble, looking fake-sourly at the island looming before us. I have to admit, it's really rather pretty, with its sweepingly tall cliffs, waterfalls, and overall greenery. "Hey, I'm going on, like, a real adventure!" I whisper, a hint of my giddiness from a few hours ago creeping back to me.

Sadrian merely looks at me sideways, smiling crookedly at my excitement.

"What? It's a new place, unexplored and just waiting for a touch of Nikki-ness!"

"I question that last bit, but yes, it is unexplored as far as we know. Unless the remaining Lords made it here, in which case it wouldn't be entirely unexplored."

"But come on, they were kind of old, right? So they couldn't have explored the whole island," I argue with my hands on my hips.

"You do have a point, I'll give you that one." Sadrian grins again, looking suddenly not unlike Jake, other than the hair.

"Hey, Eustace looks tired. Poor guy, but that was awful nice of him, wasn't it?" I note, looking up at the dragon with drooping wings and tail.

"Indeed it was. And look, the blue star!" Relief is evident on his face, though it's somewhat hidden by his mass of curls.

"Yup, that's the thing that y'all were so desperate to follow, right? And I'm guessing this is Ramandu's Island, and hence where the Stone Table is?"

"Aslan's Table," Sadrian corrects gently. "The Stone Table is back on the Narnia mainland, in Aslan's How."

"Right-o, sorry 'bout that," I chime. We both fall into silence after that, but I don't mind so much. Well, maybe the quiet bugs me a little, but hey, it's not my ship. Though it'd be super cool if it was.

Happily enough for me, the girl who's fonder of noise than silence, everyone springs into movement and the captain's shouting orders about who goes in which boat, and so forth. I only really pay attention to the part about the boats. Hey, it's not like I know how to do the sails or anything.

"Nikki, why don't you go with their Highnesses," the good captain suggests. He may be bald and stern-looking, but he's actually quite a teddy bear at heart, once ya get down to it.

"Sure thing," I chirp, hopping in happily. Yay, people I know!

"I hope you're feeling better, Nikki," Caspian remarks with a pointed glance.

I'm about to fire back a retort, but his serious face dissolves into a smile, so I hold my tongue. No, not literally.

As the boats start making their way toward the island, I notice we're heading toward some sort of building, or the ruins thereof, that sit on a cliff to our left. And naturally, my stomach chooses this precise moment to let out a yowling growl.

My cheeks flush a bit as every head within earshot – of which there are many – turns to stare at me.

"What? I skipped breakfast," I mumble, deciding the wooden floor of the boat was infinitely more interesting than people anyway. It growls again, and I poke a finger at my torso.

"Quiet you, you've said your piece and more."

Edmund, Lucy, and Caspian all let out a stifled chuckle (or in Lucy's case, a giggle).

"Yeah yeah, go ahead and laugh, you don't hide it very well." I roll my eyes as they go just that, cursing my tummy for its dependence on the snacks I fed it so often back home. And now I've given myself an intense craving for either Cheez-Its, or peanut M&Ms.

"Curse you, O rat-worthy junk food!"

This earns me more chuckles and even a snort from the crew, who earn themselves a sarcastic glare right back. Luckily for me, my stomach decides to shut up, and the rest of the ride to the island is peaceful. Painfully quiet, but peaceful. Are all adventures so conducive to utter silence, I ask you?

Still, even if the cat has stolen everyone else's tongue, it seems to have missed the fowl ones, as our arrival is announced by the tweeting of lots of birds.

"Birdses to eat. Oh crunchable birdses!" I whisper under my breath, hiding my snicker when Sadrian shoots me a questioning look.

"It's a _Lord of the Rings_ thing. Aka, it's an inside joke," I explain.

"With whom?"

"Um…myself? I would say with Laurah, but she's currently MIA."

"MIA?"

"Missing In Action. Does no one use acronyms around here?" I whisper in exasperation.

"If I knew what an acronym was, I would be able to answer you," Sadrian grins, still looking confused.

"It's…oh never mind. It doesn't matter anyhow," I grumble through my teeth. I'm starved for a good, normal, 21st century conversation. Since I keep my text-talk-needing mouth shut, the rest of the boat ride passes in silence, other than the occasional chirp of a bird.

"So, I'm guessing we're heading for that building looking thing? Up the cliffs?" I ask, hoping this venture won't involve literally scaling a cliff face. I do have a rather crippling fear of heights.

"It would seem like a good place to start," offers Caspian, taking the lead in leaving the beach for the dense but very old woods in front of us.

"There'd better be a nice, safe path," I grouse to myself. I didn't follow Laurah here to fall off the face of a cliff on some weird island without her even here to laugh at my 'paranoia.'

"I'll go behind you, so if you start to fall I can catch you."

"Thank you Sadrian, I think I might actually be starting to like you now." I smile and follow the party into the woods, swatting at the first branch to block my way. I can't resist a short half-shriek when it comes flying back to hit me right in the face.

"What gives, eh? I'll smack the bark clean off you, I will!" I threaten, slapping it out of my face once more. Again, it snaps back to clock me right below my eye. "Hey listen, I don't like the color purple, especially under my eyes, so back off, mmkay?"

"Is there a problem, Nikki?" Caspian calls back.

"Nah, go ahead on. I'll just be here burning down the forest."

Everyone stops dead in their tracks to stare at me, as if I've just announced I have a plan to assassinate Aslan or something.

"What? Chill y'all, it's not like I have matches to spare. Boys are supposed to carry those sorts of things around. Not girls. So we can all drop the are-you-freaking-insane looks and carry on, yes?"

Someone lets out a small laugh, and bless him for breaking the awkward silence. Everyone actually joins in too, and the tense mood evaporates. At least the one directed towards me.

"You never cease to confuse me, Miss Nikki," Sadrian whispers into my ear as he lifts the pesky branch out of my way.

"What happened to dropping all the 'miss' stuff? And thanks."

"My apologies. And you're welcome."

Maybe it's just me, but the way Sadrian says that sounds so cheeky and even a little, dare I even think the word here, sexy. Wait a minute, MopMan sexy? The thought of the word being associated with this curly-haired boy causes a giggle to escape my lips, but the crew has gotten somewhat used to me by now, so they don't even blink.

Eventually, after a long climb up an endless flight of stone stairs covered in dried vines and moss and the like, we find the place we've been working our way towards for the past hour or so, maybe several.

It's strange how dead and gray the plants, aka vines, look, considering how lush the island looked from the outside. Hm, maybe I've been here before. According to my parents, I'm a plant-killer. Each and every plant I've taken care of has died within a week. And I took better care of those stupid things than my cat, Peppy!

"What is this, a plant graveyard?" I mumble, more to myself than anyone else. Lucy, who's been right in front of me the whole time, hears though, and a half-smile lights her otherwise serious face.

Edmund and Caspian lead the way across a stone bridge with two waterfalls passing under it, and I have to fight the urge to reach over the edge and dip my fingers into the rushing water. I wouldn't mind falling into the waterfall either. It'd probably be a lot like those crazy waterfalls at amusement parks that I so love to drag Laurah on in the summer.

I'm knocked from my reverie as Sadrian bumps into me from behind – on accident or by design I don't know. Whatever the case, I throw a grin over my shoulder and start walking again, the chill of the stone floor of the bridge seeping into my shoes.

I find myself wishing I'd stuck closer to Edmund, because he's the one with the light, a flashlight to be exact. Achingly old-fashioned, but still, it would save me from the too-numerous-to-count trips over vines sprawled about on the ground I endure.

"Hey Sadrian? Do you think there's any chan- AH!" I let out a high-pitched squeak of fear and surprise as Edmund's light illuminates a startling bird statue with a long, pointy beak and a weirdly curved neck a few feet ahead.

"Afraid of birds?" teases Sadrian.

"Only of the ones who look ready to eat my flesh off," I retort, giving the Class-A rank creepy statue a wide, wide berth – as wide as the pathway will allow. Everything about that creep-show birdy screams 'I vant to suck your blood!' Maybe they're relatives of Dracula.

"You do realize there's one on each side, yes?"

I refuse to look up to see if Sadrian is right. Instead, I try my best to ignore that last comment and follow Edmund, Lucy, and Caspian down the aged stone pathway and into a room. As soon as we enter, my eyes twinkle with joy. Food, at last! And plenty of it too! Fresh fruit, breads, candied little sweet things, essentially a feast! My wish for a Wendy's FrostyShake isn't granted, but still, I could scream with glee. Which I almost do, except Sadrian's hand on my shoulder stops me.

He tries to turn me so I'm facing forward, but I'd much rather salivate over the food. In fact, I'd much rather gobble some of it down. Myself and a…oh what was it Laurah called big, ox-type things? Oh yeah, Minotaurus I think. Something with an M. Anyway, we both go for the food at the same time, only to be stopped by Captain Drinian's quiet but firm, "Wait."

"Spoilsport," I grumble under my breath, just as my stomach growls quite loudly again. No one laughs, but several smile under their facial hair.

I shoot the good captain a pleading look, but he remains unmoving. So, I plop down onto one of the benches to stare at my future meal while I wait for the 'green light,' so to speak. My eyelids droop until they're half-closed, and I kind of zone out, daydreaming of FrostyShakes and root beer floats and all things wonderful and delicious and loaded with calories. Hey, it tastes good going down, right? So it's worth it.

A sudden cry from Lucy and the ringing of several swords being drawn from their scabbards in a hurry rudely jolts me from my heavenly reveries, therefore putting me in a pitiably sour mood.

"What gives? Can we eat yet?" I ask, patting my still-empty stomach. I could really go for some junk food, but the bread loaves in front of me look more than a little tempting, as does the ornate trays of fruit. Fresh too, by the looks of it.

"Hush, and look to the head of the table," Sadrian hisses into my ear.

I grudgingly do as I'm told, sarcasm tugging at my lips.

"More dried vines. Yippee. Are they edible?"

"Look harder."

I roll my eyes, but stand to go over to Edmund and see what's got everyone here standing around with swords in their hands. At first, I see nothing but brown and wrinkled branches, but as I focus, it almost looks like there's hair inside one bunch.

"Uh, why…?" I trail off, staring baffled as I make out three faces. What in the name of…OH! Oh I got it, it's probably some more of those 7 Lords of Telmar Caspian debriefed me on. Why is it they're just sitting there? Either they think dried up vines are cozy, or they're in a coma. Either that or they have some serious meditation skills. I'm talking SERIOUS skills. As in world-champion-in-the-making kind of serious.

I don't know why everyone's so jumpy – it's just old guys covered in vines. Now, if they were skeletons that'd be another kettle of fish, but seeing as they're not, we're all good. Caspian points to something in the mess of vines as I come up to the three of them.

"Lord Revilion."

Yup, I was right – these guys are the Lords, or three of them anyway. Caspian continues naming them off.

"Lord Mevrimor. Lord Argoz."

Lucy starts to lift the guy's hair that's covering his face, but jumps back with a gasp of surprise. What now?

Caspian leans in close to get a good look at Mr. Meditation-in-Vines-Número-Tres.

"He's breathing!" he whispers, sounding astounded. Well, to meditate like that some breathing is still required. He – Caspian that is – has obviously never meditated before.

"So are they," Edmund says, shining his flashlight at the other two Lords of Meditation. "They're under a spell."

Okay, so are we going to-

"It's the food!" Caspian suddenly shouts, looking frantically at his men. What? Oh come on, and it looks so yummy-licious…This is a sad day for Narnia – or at least for my hungry, hungry stomach. Panicked crew members abruptly drop any food they were holding, and I glare at nothing in particular.

"Hey, it's the Stone Knife. This is Aslan's Table!" realizes Edmund, his words spurring Caspian to action.

"Their swords," he mutters, digging out the three with Lucy and Edmund's help. "On the table," he says, and clink-clink-clink the swords go, as the three royals pile them on the Table.

"That's six," says Edmund.

"We're still missing one," Caspian replies, looking at the six swords. So close, and yet so far.

"Erm, y'all? Why are the swords blue?" It's true – they've all started glowing like Bilbo Baggins' sword Sting. There better not be orcs in Narnia, because those things are nasty with a capital N.

Lucy notices this too, and turns her gaze up to the sky, saying, "Look!" as she does.

Everyone does, myself included, though I can't help another glance at the food as I turn. Something very bright and white-ish blue descends from the sky (sounds cheesy right? It kind of is). This ball of stuff-mesmerizing-to-everyone-but-me materializes into a woman as it comes close to the ground.

"Travelers of Narnia: welcome," she says, glowing bluish-white and smiling hospitably.

Everyone, save the three royals, sinks into a bow, and I decide to follow suit, lest I look like the awkward turtle of the bunch.

"Arise."

They – or maybe I should say we – obey, as if commanded by Aslan or something.

"Are you not hungry?" this being asks, still smiling and probably making half the sailors here fall into hopeless love.

"Who are you?" counters Edmund, looking none-too-safe from being smitten himself.

"I'm Liliandil, daughter of Ramandu. I am your guide." I swear, I couldn't make my voice that gentle and sweet if I tried.

"You're a star," Caspian murmurs, him and the Pevensies walking closer. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's falling under this woman's – excuse me, star's – spell. Forget the food being enchanted, that's old news now.

She nods, still keeping up that angelic smile.

"You are most beautiful."

What the-! I make a mental note to slap Caspian for that line later. I'm not so cruel as to embarrass him right here, however tempting it is.

"If it is a distraction for you, I-I can change form," she offers, looking the very epitome of all things innocent. Okay, now I'm starting to like her.

"No!" Edmund and Caspian speak up in protest at the same time, and I can't help but roll my eyes. Good heavens above! No pun intended.

"Please, the food is for you." She now addresses the crewmen, who certainly look very hungry, and lifts her hands, lighting the candles.

"Cool," I whisper under my breath. I'd love to know how to do that!

"There is enough for all who are welcome at Aslan's Table. Always. Help yourselves," she continues, gesturing to the deliciousness there on the table. I definitely could be friends with her – she gave us permission to eat the food!

The crew apparently thinks like I do, because they all move to nom something. But once again we are stopped by a "Wait!" and this one comes from Edmund.

"What happened to them?" he asks, gesturing to the Lords of Meditation.

"Did you teach them to meditate?" I ask.

Liliandil actually laughs, a pretty and bell-like, tinkling laugh. "No, I did not. These poor men were half mad when they reached our shores. They were threatening violence upon each other. Violence is forbidden at the Table of Aslan. So they were sent to sleep."

"Will they ever wake?" questions Lucy.

"When all is put right." Oh, thank you for that totally-not-cryptic answer, O Being of the Sky. "Come. There is little time," urges Liliandil, leading Caspian, Edmund, and Lucy out of the room. I start to dive toward the table, but Lucy looks back and motions for me to come too. I suppose because I'm Laurah's bff.

"The Magician Coriakin told you of Dark Island?" askas Lilliandil as we come to a stop at a balcony.

"Yes."

Oh Caspian, you have no idea how hard I'll slap you for this Cupid's Arrow syndrome you fail to fight.

We all stand at the balcony rail, and lo and behold, there sits Dark Island, looking black and sickening green. Just looking at the green part reminds me of how seasick I was a little while ago, back on the _Dawn Treader_, as I've learned the ship is called.

"Before long the evil will be unstoppable."

Thank you for the message of soul-lifting hope, Madame Star.

"Coriakin said to break its spell we lay the 7 swords at Aslan's Table," says Caspian.

"He speaks the truth," the star confirms, her gaze shifting from Caspian back to Dark Island.

"But we only found 6. Do you know where the 7th is?" asks Edmund.

There's a moment of tense silence that I'm dying to break with a little well-timed joviality, but Liliandil answers him before I can.

Raising her arm to point at Dark Island, she replies," In there. You will need great courage."

Now the mood is undeniably fearful, and it makes even me more than a little uncomfortable.

"Now waste no time," she says urgently, turning to face us.

I can see Caspian is going to say something, and probably something I'll end up hitting him for, so I open my mouth before he can.

"One more thing: I have a friend who's here as well: Laurah. Have you seen her, or do you know where she is?"

"I fear I cannot help you – I have neither seen nor heard of her. I wish you good fortune in finding her."

I nod my thanks, glancing at Caspian out of the corner of my eye. He looks the teeniest bit guilty, but as a king must I suppose, he hides it supremely well.

"Goodbye." And with that, the star Liliandil rises back into the sky, and I finally have my chance.

I turn to Caspian, look him in the eye, walk past him, then turn around and whap him good and hard on the back of the head.

His yelp of pain is quite satisfying, but he doesn't argue.

"Only one slap, Nikki?" he asks hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hope he'll get off that easy.

"I'm saving the rest for later," I retort, throwing a semi-forgiving look over my shoulder. At least he is actually sorry. Guys will be guys after all, but that's why every girl needs a best friend: to beat up her guy when he has one of those 'guy' moments. Which is a role I'm happy to fulfill for Laurah, and one I always have. And I always will.

* * *

><p><strong>I can just see Nikki smacking Caspian, and you have no idea how fun it was to visualize! xD<br>**

**Haha anyway, I'll try to have another chapter out for ya in 3 days, and hopefully the Internet will stay functional this time! :]  
><strong>

**And if you have a moment to leave some feedback, that'd be awesome!  
><strong>


	13. Chapter 12

**How's this day-early update to make up for the last late one? :) I do apologize again for that, I'll make sure to time things better from now on. After all, I can't let all you wonderful readers and reviewers down again, can I? ;)**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - You are first yet again my dear! ;D Congrats! If you would like me to answer one, and only one, question for you about this series, go ahead and message me and I'll answer it for you ;)  
>Aw, suspense is killing you? I would apologize, but my writer-self demands I rejoice! xD<br>Me too! But the temptation to give Nikki the opportunity to smack him was just too good to resist! xD The poor guy, but it was amusing!  
>And thank you once again, especially for sticking with me and my stories this long! <strong>

**chibimaker - Yay! Haha I did have oodles of fun writing her, especially that part! xD Probably because she's a lot like myself, except I love coffee more than FrostyShakes...  
>Hm hm hm, romance eh? Ya think Nikki dearest should have a little too? ;)<br>Awwww, why thank you! I hope there were less to no errors in this chapter: I've been proofreading for ya! ;)**

**Garideth - Ahahaha that did rhyme didn't it! Priceless! xD Yep, LOTR has been on my mind a lot lately...I think I'll write a story for it, once I'm done with this series...But isn't he? I do love me some MI xD  
>Ah good good, approval is good :D<br>Hm, well hopefully I'll clear that up for ya a little bit here and a lot more in book 3 ;)**

**Evy201 - Haha for real? Awesome! xD I do so enjoy making my readers happy!  
>And yes, I do like having some lightness back in! I was getting a little on the odd side after writing so much depressing stuff for Laurah :] (Haha more odd than usual!)<br>As for Nikki and Sadrian...well, keeping eyes open never hurt ;) Though I honestly don't know what to do with them...Hey, I might post a poll up!  
>Haha okay, I can work with severely dislike ;)<strong>

**Gentle Blossom - Oh my dear, you make me smile and laugh and love reviews all over again! xD  
>Haha yeah, I'm not really sure what to do with her on the romantic front...still, you have a point about MopMan being hot! XD<br>And that slap was one of my favorite things to write! Totally true about both points: I'd have slapped him too. :P  
>And actually, you get your update now because I'm behind on NaNo and had to pump this one out quick. ;)<strong>

**And if you don't know what comes next...I pray for you. xD Just kidding, but here's the disclaimer:  
>Yeah, still don't own Narnia. However, if I can uphold my claim for being CS Lewis reincarnated, this statement may be subject to appropriate alteration.<strong>

**And a brief warning: the first half of this is a little dark, or a lot dark, so just be prepared ;)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

My jumble of a mind doesn't make much sense even to me now, and I spend most of my time lying on my rock, shivering from the dank air. Several times I've tried to slip into the water, but my fear of drowning overtakes my need to end this – whatever 'this' is.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

The string of nonsensical words replay over and over like a broken record, matching my broken mind. If this place tried to break me, it's succeeded. I have no idea how long it's been since I got spewed out here, but the thinness of my body suggests it's been days. I'd expect to be dead from dehydration, but I seem incapable of death. I am cursed, it seems.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

Where did that meaningless mish-mash of words come from? They seem familiar, but I can't find the energy to remember. I don't even care, really. I don't care about anything anymore, it seems. I can't say what's real and what's only my imagination and what's a fragment of this damned mist. Everything is real and everything is fake, everything is an illusion and everything is reality.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

Where did I ever hear that? I like the repetition of the 'something' though, so I let the thing replay again and again and again. This is madness, I am madness, I am a madwoman lost in the realms of her own crazy nightmares. There is nothing here, there is nothing in me, I am lost to sanity's reason.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

My mind is broken, shattered into pieces in a shattered world, a fragmented excuse for reality that this place passes for. Idly, my fingers flit to my ribs, counting them because I have nothing better to do. I'm sure some vision or nightmare or dream will come along sooner than later, but I have nothing to do but wait for it.

Somewhere in my stream of muttered numbers, I lose count. So I start again, my counts mixing with the words burning their way into my brain, etched deep inside with a fire that burns as it soothes, a fire that kills me and keeps me alive. Why these words are so important, I will never know. But they are the only steady thing I have left to hold on to here, so I even help the fire along, muttering the phrase into the darkness as I rock back and forth to the rhythm of it.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."

* * *

><p>A soft, gentle wind whistles through the still air, making my long black skirt blow sideways with it. Wrapped in my arms is my mother, shaking with silent sobs as the preacher's words hang in the air. I hear his voice, but I understand nothing. My eyes turn themselves away from my father's casket and up toward the sun, almost hidden by the dark clouds that hang over us.<p>

"Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our brother departed, and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"

I turn back toward the coffin just as the pallbearers begin to lower it into the ground. A comforting hand squeezes my shoulder, and I offer Nikki the closest thing to a smile I can manage in return. My mother continues to cry, shoulders heaving, tears spilling from her eyes onto my clothes. Tears blur my vision, but none fall.

My ears tune everything out; I am alone in my own world of silence. It's easier that way. Lips ever-moving, the preacher holds a hand over the grave as the casket lands in the ground with a soft thud. That simple sound is the only thing I hear. It echoes in my ears, haunting me, mocking my failure. My eyes don't blink as I stare at the smooth wood.

Slowly, slowly, I let my eyes drift shut. I won't cry here. Not now. Too many people.

Time passes. I vaguely feel several hands on my shoulders. They mean to comfort me, I suppose. I don't open my eyes to see who they are. I find that I don't care enough to do that.

At last, it seems everyone has gone. I let my eyes drift open, trying to ignore how hard it is to see.

"Laurah?"

I turn to face Nikki, my face utterly lifeless. She doesn't try and tell me everything would be okay; she knows better.

My gaze flitting to my mother, I whisper, "Could you take her home for me?"

Nikki nods in understanding, gently prying my mother from my arms and guiding her toward the car.

"Oh, and Nikki?"

I wait until she has turned around to continue. This is important.

"Would it be too much trouble if I asked you to stay with her until I get there?"

"We'll be waiting," she replies softly.

I nod my thanks and turn back to my father's grave. By now they've covered the casket completely, and a mound of dirt is the only evidence of the burial. Thankfully, whoever they are understand I need some time alone with the grave, and so they leave. I wait until they were out of sight before I move.

My knees slowly give out beneath me, and I sink to the ground. A raindrop lands on the earth in front of me, and a roll of thunder follows. Soon it's a full-out rainstorm. I care not.

As the storm rages on, my numb fingers reach out to the mound of dirt that is my father's grave. The earth crumbles in my shaking hand. My voice trembles as I force out the one thing I'd been thinking the entire funeral:

"I'm sorry I failed, Daddy."

The dirt falls through my fingers.

"I'm sorry."

A single tear glides down my cheek, falling to the ground and plopping into a small puddle. A small idea finds its way into my head. I'd tried to save him; I'd given it everything I had. But there's one last thing to do.

Shaking from the cold and the heartache, I cup my hand over the mound of dirt. Delicate petals tickle my palm. I lift my hand away and let it fall to my side.

And as I kneel there staring at that little white flower, I finally let myself cry.

* * *

><p>I feel nothing. It's no longer strange how empty everything, especially me, feels. It's like a regular schedule now: it shows me pain, I hum back to this semblance of life, mumbling whatever comes to mind.<p>

"Little white flower, little gray storm, little white flower, little gray storm."

Repetition appeals to me, so I mutter out anything catchy that comes to mind, and I don't really understand anything I'm saying. It's just a way of passing time, a way of distracting myself from the hunger pangs in my stomach and my parched tongue. My old saying returns to me, and I repeat that one, liking it better than the new one.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."

They seem to hold a kind of importance, at least more so than the other strings of nonsense I've put together. But what has any importance at all, really? Nothing matters anymore, not even my survival. Nothing is my everything, and everything is nothing, nothing at all.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."

I'm bored, deep down in the tiny crevices of me that still remain untouched by this island of darkness. No need to fret, it'll be here soon enough with a new pain to keep me occupied.

* * *

><p>This place is familiar. Very familiar. I know these off-white walls with the light brown stain over there in the corner where my dad had thrown a cup of iced tea in a fit of rage. I know these windows with the strange, pale blue curtains that look at least as old as my grandmother. I know these light wooden chairs around the kitchen table that are protected with a simple, chocolate brown tablecloth my mom had bought when I was 14. Chocolate brown had been all the rage that year.<p>

Both the dogs are napping on the sofa that sits in the family room across from an old TV. Dad had always ranted about wanting a flat screen, but we just didn't have the money for that, though I kept my eyes on any sales. Jack is curled up into as small a ball as his sausage-shaped body will allow, and I can hear his gentle snoring. Gus, on the other hand, is stretched out like always, his round stomach reminding me of a pregnant sow.

There is a figure dressed in black standing across the room from where I am. I don't recognize the shape at first, but I can make out soft weeping. The figure is hunched over and seems to be a woman. As I listen to the woman cry, it occurs to me that she seems familiar.

Afraid of what I'll find but determined to know who this woman is, I hesitantly begin to walk toward her. My eyes catch a familiar sight; this woman is wearing my mother's shoes - my mother from home. She'd had those shoes for as long as I can remember.

The black leather pumps are slightly faded from years of wear and the slender heels have lost some of their black right where the bottom pad connected with the actual heel. The shoes are much like any other pair of pumps you might find in the '80s, but I know these are my mother's shoes. I'd memorized exactly what they looked like as a child; Mom had always loved to wear those heels to work, before they got all the wear and tear. There's a tiny streak lighter than the rest of the shoe across the tip of the right toe from when she'd tripped going up the stairs to her office and scuffed away some of the shoe polish. She would have fixed it, but somehow we never got around to it.

My heart sinks past my stomach and into the floor as I realize who this woman was.

"Momma..."

She doesn't hear me. Of course she doesn't. I am a specter; I'm not really here. I can do nothing. Just like I've always been able to do: **nothing**. I slowly walk around so I can see her face, hoping against all hope I'm wrong. I'm not.

Copious tears fall from my mother's light brown eyes, downcast in their grief. The salt water has formed two trails down her cheeks, the water coming so unceasingly that her makeup is worn off in the trails. Mascara tints the edges a smoky black, and the bags under her eyes are all the more pronounced with the ebony makeup to emphasize them.

I want to reach out, to take her frail figure in my arms and comfort my mother like I've done so often before I came to Narnia. Sometimes I didn't even know the reason for her tears, but I never denied her the meager comfort I could give. But this time I have no choice. She wouldn't feel it if I tried to hug her. My heart catches in my throat when she whispers one thing to herself.

"Laurah? Where is my Laurah?"

My heart aches for my mother, for myself even. I can do nothing for her. She needs comfort badly, but I can't give it. Oh, but how I wish I could! Is this to be my torture for doing nothing to help my dad? Having to watch this, knowing I am helpless to do a single thing?

Sniffling pitifully, my mother begins to plod away toward her room, her head still bowed and her back still hunched over. I feel like I should follow her, but I'm too weighed down with my melancholy thoughts to move. She passes right through me like I'm not there. But I'm not. Not for her.

My eyes are glued to her sorrowful form as she disappears into her room, the door softly clicking closed behind her, leaving me standing alone in the family room. I am frozen. Dull pain throbs with my heart beat, spreading throughout my body in a matter of seconds. This is my fault. If I'd only gone home that day...but then Caspian and I...my thoughts are cut off by a sudden onslaught of fearful panic. I can't explain where it's coming from, only that it's driving me to the room my mother had disappeared inside of. Something is going horribly wrong.

In a matter of seconds, I'm stumbling through the door and into my mother's room, nearly frantic with worry. I've tried to steel myself, to get ready for what might be on the other side. But nothing could have prepared me for what I see now.

Red. That's the first thing I see. A pool of dark red on the floor, growing before my very eyes. It wouldn't have been so bad had that been the only thing I saw. It was what lay in the center that made me want to scream, to cry, to do anything but stand there helpless. My mother...

Some strange, strangled sound tears from my throat. What has she done?

There she lay, in the middle of the pool of red. In the pool of blood.

Because that's what it was.

Blood.

Fresh, metallic, still leaking from her body.

From her wrist, more accurately.

My blurred vision catches the cold, cruel glint of a razor blade next to her hand. She looks almost relived, oblivious to the pain she must be feeling from the unforgiving steel edge.

I can't cry. That's far too easy. A strange but welcome numbness is slowly flowing through me. It's like I'm beyond feeling anything now.

Just like her.

Except I am alive. I am breathing. I haven't yet given up.

She has.

And that's the last thing I know before it all fades away into nothing.

* * *

><p>It's strange, really. In the things the mist shows me, I can feel things again, even if it's all a mess of heartache and pain. Still, it's something. But when I return from the worlds this place shows me, it's back to the nothing that's all I know. I've forgotten what it is to feel anything. The slightest twinges of it are gone as soon as the visions or memories are gone.<p>

Is this what madness is? Not feeling anything? I am only a shadow, maybe I'm not even real. No, I can't be real. This can't be real. Nothing is real.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see something on my wrist lighting up, hear a soft voice crooning to me. Only I can't figure out what it's saying. It sounds nice though, nicer than anything I've heard as of yet.

I croak out a response, not really caring what comes out of my mouth at this point. Whatever it is, it's enough, because I hear something even more pleasant drifting out of the thing on my wrist.

"_Siúil, siúil, siúil a rúin_  
><em>Siúil go socair agus siúil go ciúin<em>  
><em>Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom"<em>

The melody is nice and simple, and it's really quite pretty. So I try to join the little song that pierces the air in here, and my voice doesn't sound too horrible. A little scratchy perhaps, but otherwise alright. Nothing unpleasant enough to gag over, at least.

More notes float into the air, and they escape my mouth too. Then, that tiny sliver of comfort is gone. But still, I'm glad for it. I can feel again, if only for this singular moment. I do actually feel some form of happiness. More akin to a need being fulfilled really, but it's the closest thing to joy I've felt in what seems like forevers of pain and forevers of nothing.

My little phrase comes to me again, and in my madness I set the words to the tune of the melody.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."

Another line comes to me, and I sing it too.

"Listen little bird, and sing along too."

And another.

"Sing, and borrow something else anew."

I sing the three together, liking my little song. I'm back to being incapable of feeling again, but I at least feel a little alive, at least a little more real. I'm singing myself back into being.

A scream echoes from somewhere a little ways away, and it disrupts my tune. I go back to muttering again, consumed in my little fragmented gibberish.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

Something drifts in and out of my vision, some familiar shape meant to torture me probably. I mutter my little phrase again, for what it's worth.

Something else joins the wraith in front of me, and I vaguely feel a ghost of a touch wisping over my cheek.

It takes me a while to identify the two things, most especially because I don't really care what they are: figuring them out is merely another source of 'entertainment,' if one can call it that. Being such, I drag it out as long as possible. I must be starved for a change in the status quo.

"You know you deserve this."

"You know you deserve more."

"Did you really think a little talk would do the trick?"

"Did you really think you could ever succeed?"

"You are to blame, are you not?"

"Could you ever hope for more?"

Somehow, these voices, with their words that stab me like thousands of tiny little knives, are familiar to me. Again, I take my time trying to sort it out. I have nothing else to do, really.

Eventually, the pieces left of my mind work it out. These are my parents, the ones from that other place I was raised. The place I was a human and not a sprite. It wasn't a particularly nice place, but it was something. It was real, I think. Or maybe it wasn't. Who's to say, anyway? Certainly not me, that's for sure.

"If not for you, we'd be alive."

"If not for you, we'd be happy."

_What is happy?_

"We'd have been so much better without you."

"You only brought us grief, and caused us trouble."

"You killed us, didn't you?"

"You wanted us dead, didn't you?"

Somehow, the last two sentences strike a chord with me, and I leap to my feet to scream my denial. To scream that I wanted them to live, live and be happy and healthy and every good thing. I do, though my voice can barely be heard above their accusations. Deep down, what they're saying suddenly feels true.

And that hurts.

The last shreds of me that were still holding on to any semblance of sanity are ripped from me, twisted and warped until they're just like the rest of me: bloody, unfeeling, nothing. That's all this is, and it's all I am.

I'm not making any sense, I know it. Even that realization doesn't make sense. It's nothing, just like everything else.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

I mumble it out, my little catch phrase, and it intermingles with my parents' voices. And that's all my world is: just a bunch of voices screaming in the dark. Screaming in the nothing. Screaming, screaming, screaming…

* * *

><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

"Alrighty, so we're off to the Big Bad Island of Doom?" I chime, following everyone out of Aslan's Table's Room.

"Dark Island," Caspian quietly corrects. He sounds off, though I can't tell if it's worry or fear or some combination thereof.

He drops back from leading the group with Edmund to walk beside me, and I glance up at him curiously. Clearly, he has something to say to me. Ah well, what am I here for if not to listen? And of course, jabber on when the mood strikes me.

"You were right to hit me, Nikki. So thank you, even if it did leave a small lump at the back of my head."

"Hey, you remembered to add some humor at the end! Good job," I say in congratulations. It's about time this guy lightened up a little. "Oh, but you're welcome. But technically, I didn't hit you: I smacked you. There's a world of difference there, so don't confuse the two."

"What difference is there?"

"Well, 'smack' implies a friendly sort of reminder, whereas 'hit' implies genuine malice or meanness. I personally only smack or whap, never hit. Unless some idiot tries to hurt Laurah, in which case I'll beat the crap out of them."

"I well believe it. You and her are sisters, in spirit if none else." He falls silent for a moment, and I have the good sense to wait for him to speak up again. Never interrupt a king. He doesn't disappoint, though I don't anticipate his next question.

"How was she? When you last saw her?"

"Erm, well she was fine. Didn't I already cover this?"

"Yes, but I'd like to hear it again."

"Aw, you miss her something awful. That's cute, in a tragic sort of way. Anyway, she was perfectly alright. A little sad to be leaving her mom and me behind, but almost glowing with excitement to be going back to Narnia. Or more specifically, to you. She was always touching that ring you gave her, you know. It meant an awful lot to her."

Caspian can't seem to think of a response, and his gaze focuses on nothing in particular. It's almost like he can't process everything I just said. Maybe he's just so used to living without her that it's strange to be this close to her, even if it's just by way of me.

"You okay?" I ask, nudging his shoulder to tug him back into the here and now.

"I've just missed her for so long that it's…odd, to be this close and yet so far away."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You'll see. I don't think even the gods could keep you two apart."

He shoots me a dubious look, but I wave it off.

"You'll see. Trust me."

He doesn't say he does, but he doesn't argue with me either. Considering where we started this conversation, I'd say it's a start. A small one, but worth it.

The rest of the hike back to the beach and the boats is a silent one, short of the crunching the occasional pebble or stray twig makes under boots. Even I don't have much to say, which something akin to a miracle in and of itself. Maybe I'm meditating on my feet.

Whatever the case is, everyone finally gets to the boats and we start rowing back to the ship. I can't help but wonder what that 'Dark Island' will be like, and how in the world we're supposed to find a sword in that mess. It looked pretty big and pretty creepy from the balcony.

Musing over things like this occupies me during the relatively short ride to the _Dawn Treader_, and preparations for going into Dark Island begin the minute the first crewman sets foot on deck.

I'm utterly lost in the organized chaos, though it seems to me like we're getting ready for battle more than anything else. I guess Dark Island isn't known for being overly friendly. No WalMart greeters handing out smiley-face stickers there. Too bad really, because I am fond of the cheery little sticky things, however simple or basic they are.

"Nikki, are you any good with a sword or bow and arrow?" Lucy's voice floats up out of the frenzy long before her slight frame does.

I have to shake my head. "Unless kitchen knives count, I'm as good as useless."

She sighs a little, as if suspecting this was the case, and merely hands me a small knife. "Use this if you need to. It'll probably be best if you stay below deck."

"Right-o." I give her a thumbs-up, not really minding at all. After all, Laurah's the one with battle-experience – I'm just the newbie in town.

Lucy nods, as if thanking me for my easy cooperation, and disappears again into the bustle of preparations, probably to get in her own battle-gear. As for me, I make myself at home sitting on the deck railing, just watching the activity. If someone needs an extra hand, I'll be handy. But until then, I'm just chillin'.

Finally, after what seems like hours of sitting and doing nothing amid the busyness, everyone seems ready, and I hop off the railing with a sore backside. The ship starts to move toward the island as the rowers start to pull, and the tension is thicker than pea soup, I swear.

Even my naturally joking nature begins to dull as we approach the island, fear tinging my normally-abundant humor. For once, I can't think of something to say. Well, nothing that seems appropriate. We draw closer, and as we do, Caspian appears at the top of the stairs on the upper deck. The crew, everyone, falls silent to hear what the king has to say. Even me.

"No matter what happens here, every soul who stands before me has earned their place on the crew of the _Dawn Treader_." He pauses for a second to gaze at each and every person on deck – even me – before he continues. "Together we have traveled far, together we have faced adversity, **together** we can do it again. So now is not the time to fall to feat's temptations. Be strong! Never give in." A spark is passing through everyone here, even my newbie-self can feel it.

The king continues, passion and fire in his voice as I begin to see just how perfect he and Laurah really are for each other. They both have this fire in them, this zeal for Narnia and the innocent and all things good.

"Our world – our Narnian lives depend on it. Think of the lost souls we're here to save. Think of Aslan. Think of Narnia." With that, Caspian ducks his head and starts down the stairs, only to look up with something akin to surprise as someone starts up a cry.

"For Narnia!"

It's a war cry that spreads like wildfire among everyone, but my eyes are trained on Laurah's fiancée. His eyes dart over the crew, as if he can't believe this. He's humble, just as a king should be. Just as Laurah's fiancée should be. And for the first time, I actually approve of him all on my own. Not from stories Laurah told me or from beautiful memories she recounted to convince me of his impeccable goodness. No, this time I see it for myself, and I can say I do honestly approve. He's good for her, and he will be again when they're together.

So I smile and give a nod of my head when he looks at me, and I think he understands what I mean. A smile of his own blooms on his face, and there's a moment of understanding between the two of us. We'll find Laurah, wherever she is. And that's the promise that burns between us, the searing vow we both know neither will break. We'll find her, if it's the last thing we do. When this is over, that will be the quest, our quest, the quest of Laurah's fiancée and her sister.

And that promise is what lingers as the ship glides steadily into Dark Island.

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><p><strong>Alright peoples, the poll is up! It's on my profile, so if you'd like to have a say in NikkiSadrian, please stop by and let me know what you'd like. ;)**

**Thank you to everyone who's reading, anonymous, those who favorited, those who alerted, and ESPECIALLY my WONDERFUL reviewers! I'm forever grateful to all of you!**

**And speaking of reviews, if you have a moment for some feedback (constructive criticism welcomed!), I'd love to hear from you! And the first person to review can ask me any question about this story/series they like, and I'll answer it. ;)**


	14. Chapter 13

**It's a little late, I know, and I'm sorry yet again. :] I'm hoping for a multi-chapter weekend, since mine is 4 days long. (I LOVE the end of the semester!) Well, including today, it's 5! The one really good thing about school: the days off from it. xD**

**But, I must say, I got more reviews than usual on the late chapter, so a HUGE, HUGE thank you out to all of you wonderful peoples who left feedback! You make me so happy, y'all! 8D**

**Guest - Hm, you were the first to review the last chapter, but I'm not sure who you are so I don't know how to give you that question answer...if you review first again, could you leave your username so I know who you are? If you are a member of the site, go ahead and message me though. :)  
>And here's your update! ;D<strong>

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Haha well you can save up the questions you earn and use them in a heap if ya like xD  
>Yep, I did want to take this story a little off the happy highway, but I'm glad it was still good! :) And as for worrying about Laurah...yeah, probably not a bad idea xD<br>Awesome, I'll see what people say so I know what to do with those two! xD  
>And thank you once again dearie! :D<strong>

**Jumpergirl89 - Hahaha I'm glad you are! She's such fun to write! :D Though she does have ante dency to nver shut up when she's dictating what she says...xD  
>Haha well they'll bump into each other soon...;)<strong>

**Garideth - Oh my goodness dearie, are you psyched out on caffeine? Because it kinda sounds like it...xD  
>But no, I only just heard of River Tam (from your review xD) but yes, they are at Dark Island ;) And you could be right, since I do love stress and strife (and also alliteration xP)<br>Hahahahahaha sappy feels? Oh my dear, you have me doubled over in laughter right now! XD  
>And no need to apologize for the randomness, it's quite hilarious to read ;)<br>And thank you again! :D**

**newgirl5 - That would be a really good guess, and I think it's answered here ;)**

**Evy201 - They're on their way, obliviously xD But don't worry, the reunion will be soon...as in, maybe this chapter soon ;D  
>And I'm glad you liked the Nikki-approval-of-Caspian scene, it was one of my favs to write!<br>As for Nikki/Sadrian, it seems everyone agrees with you my dear! ;) Starting evil plotting of romance that takes far too long to actually come to fruition...xD**

**Gentle Blossom - Ah, poor Laurah and Caspian...I love keeping those two apart! xD And finding is only step 1 ;)  
>I have to say, I just got a pretty good idea about some funnyness between MopMan and Nikki xD I'll be splitting this story between Nikki and Laurah now, so MopMan will be here more ;)<strong>

**Disclaimer - (How many does that make it now?) Don't own Narnia. mmkay, y'all? ;)**

**Enjoy, and thank you all for voting in the poll!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

This place is about as gloomy and dreary as it gets. Between the complete lack of sunlight - other than the ray from where we just came in, and the green stuff that seems to be everywhere, we're buried in a fog that's fifty times thicker than pea soup. How is it we're planning on finding one little sword in this messyness?

I nudge MopMan – oops, Sadrian – and start to ask this very question, but the fear in his eyes hushes me right up. Apparently, this place is super scary.

Maybe I've just been watching way too many horror movies – hey, a good scream can be good for the heart: it exercises it – but it doesn't really seem too terrible. Certainly a little on the creepy side and badly in need of an interior decorator, but still, it could be a lot worse. There aren't any bloody corpses or flesh-eating critters of what-have-you.

Be that as it may, I am a bit uneasy, though I blame it more on the nerves, or lack thereof, of the crew and other peoples on board this ship. But I come to notice a whole crap-load of green mist hissing its way toward us, and that does actually send some of the hair on the back of my neck a-twitching.

"I can't see a thing – this fog's too thick," warns the good captain, his gruff voice carrying quite well in the quiet.

The mist is emitting all sorts of creepy, haunted-house type noises and quiet wails, and like any teen girl with a good head on her shoulders, I keep my eyes open. Especially when hordes of the stuff wind their way into and around all of us and even the ship itself.

Then, an immense flood of relief courses through me.

"Laurah? Thank heavens you're alright chica! You had me right worried, you did!" I bounce forward to grab that girl and give her a proper hug, but my arms wrap around air where she should be.

A hand on my shoulder startles me, and I whirl around to see Caspian behind me.

"You saw her too." He doesn't need to ask, he knows.

I nod shakily, rattled from the ghostly apparition.

"It'll turn out alright in the end," Caspian assures me, though I suspect he's trying to convince himself just as much as me.

I summon a grin and try to just be the crazy me everyone's used to.

"It better, because I'm not about to die without that FrostyShake. Or peanut M&Ms. Or Cheez-Its."

As if in on the joke, my stomach grumbles to punctuate, and I pat it lovingly.

"You silly thing you, there ain't much junk food around these parts. Unless this mist can conjure up Cheez-Its, I guess we better stay alive and kickin'," I say, holding my chin up.

"Keep your chins up y'all, and whistle if you're scared. 'I whistle a happy tune/and every single time/ the happiness in the tune/convinces me that I'm/not afraid!'" I sing out, whistling that happy tune at the end. I have to sigh when I only receive blank stares in return.

"Oh come on, has no one seen the 'King and I?' It's a classic!" I grouse, continuing my whistling.

To my surprise, Caspian, Lucy, and Sadrian join me, even if only to humor me. But still, a little of the tension seems to leave them. It leaves me too, and when the next wraith-snake misty-thing comes along, I wave it away with a flick of my hand.

Caspian isn't so lucky it seems: he looks over one shoulder, then the other, looking pained and scared. Maybe even on the verge of tears, unless my eyes deceive me.

So I do the same thing he did for me. I lay a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to reality and remind him he's not alone here. I may not know this guy very well, but if Laurah loves him, that's all I need to know.

He starts, and his eyes don't focus for a second. But a shake brings him back, and Caspian nods his thanks, laying his armored hand over mine like a brother would. I can't guess what he heard, but at least he looks a bit better now. Still, I can't help but wish Laurah was here to comfort him instead of me; she knows him quite well, and she's much better at this sort of thing.

"Go away. You're dead."

We both look to Edmund, on the deck below, looking a little crazed and a lot angry, though he's trying to contain it. He turns around, looking into what appears to us to be empty air. Either he's seeing things, or we're just blind as bats. Normally, I'd vote the former. In here…meh, same vote.

"NO!"

I jump a good few inches in the air at Edmund's yell, though I retain enough sense to be happy it's not directed at me at least. Caspian and I share a glance, in which I quietly ask what on earth he saw. Not that Caspian necessarily could see it too, but he might have some idea.

"Edmund? Are you alright?"

Lucy beat me to the punch. Though I'd probably have phrased said question less nicely and far, far more sarcastically.

Edmund seems to be fine though, just a little shaken up. Quite frankly, and no not as in Frankenstein, we all are. Shaken up like chicken in the breading before it's fried – in Crisco of course. Greasy, slimy stuff, but it can be good for cooking.

Caspian finally answers my question now. Perfect timing, what with my daydreams of KFC fried chicken, soft and flaky biscuits, and yummzilicious honey.

"That was most likely the White Witch. Did Laurah explain the history?" he whispers, probably so Edmund won't be any more rattled than he is.

I nod silently, because my voice never comes out very quiet, and in spite of my sarcastic nature I do care about the sanity of the people here.

We're all jolted from our respective reveries at a strange, howling, and definitely Grade-A creepy cry. Two theories pop into my head: A, it's a werewolf (Love you Taylor Lautner if it is!); B, it's an animal.

More yells and hollering follow, but it almost sounds like it's yelling 'Keep away!'

"Who's there?" Edmund asks.

"We do not fear you!"

Speak for yourself, Caspian. Unless of course it really is a werewolf, in which case can we please ask if its name is Jacob Black? Because that would be undeniably awesome – with a capital A! Especially because I'm Team Jacob's-abs.

"Noraiyu!"

Hm, I think that would translate to either "Nor I you!" or "North bayou!" Personally, I don't think there are too many bayous around here, but hey, I could be mistaken. Whichever is the case, I'd really like to see if this guy looks as nutty as he sounds.

I guess we'll all be finding out soon enough, because Edmund's gotten out his oldy-old flashlight and is shining it out at the rocks.

Personally, I think Lucy is looking a mite too scared for her own good, so I head over to give a good dose of chill-ness. Sadly, I don't happen to have any chill pills with me, but I'll have to make do I guess.

"Hey Luce, chillax. It's all gonna be fine, mmkay?" I give her a pat on the shoulder too, just for good measure.

I'm pleased that I'm somewhat successful and some of the I'm-so-freaking-nervous lines fade from her forehead.

"That's good. Remember, you'll have plenty of time for wrinkles when you're an old lady, so don't go giving yourself them now. Especially because I don't think they have Botox back in World War II and I wouldn't recommend it anyway. Nor would I recommend plastic surgery – too many horror stories. You know, there was this one lady I saw whose lips were so poofed up it looked like a serious allergic reaction. I'm talking do-you-need-to-go-to-the-ER kind of serious. So yeah, moral of the story is: don't get that weirdo beauty surgery stuff. It does more harm than good really."

At the end of my little speech on the evils of putting plastic in one's face, Lucy is just staring at me, half in total confusion and half in total amusement. Yay, mission accomplished! In the words of our good, totally sexy friend Ethan Hunt.

Aw dang, now I just want to drift off into my world of daydreams and reveries of the undeniable attractiveness that is that secret agent. But just as luck would have it, Lucy shakes me from my semi-stupor, pointing where Edmund is shining the flashlight.

The beam has settled on a large, boulder-type thing in the water a little ways off from the ship. And there does seem to be someone there…and oh for the love of my personal sanity, that dude needs to shave. I mean, I like a little scruff on some guys, but that beard is just plain scraggly. I didn't think to bring a razor, did I?

"Keep away!" CrazyDude hollers again, looking exactly as strange as he sounds.

"We will not leave," responds Caspian firmly.

Now why not? I'm personally getting a wittle bitty bit creeped out. Oh! Oh oh oh right-o, that dang sword! I almost forgot about the blasted thing.

"You will not defeat me!" CrazyDude growls, giving whatever it is he's holding a little shake. If I only had my contacts, I could see exactly what – hey! That's a sword! Is that the one we need?

"Caspian! Caspian, his sword!" Edmund calls, just as I was about to do the exact same thing.

And here let there be a moment of stunned or confused silence, because that always seems to happen around here during important moments. After said moment of silence, Caspian identifies Crazy Dude.

"Lord Rhoop!"

Honestly, what is it with the names around here? What ever happened to normal names, like Blake and Michael and such? I mean, no offense to old-crazy-lord here, but his name rhymes with 'poop.' That is **never** a good sign I tell you. Ever.

As Caspian moves down the deck, the lord-whose-name-rhymes-with-'poop' walks the opposite way, looking completely psycho and a little scared of us, if you're willing to stretch it a bit.

"You do not own me!"

"Chillax dude, we never said we did," I mumble under my breath. Sadrian gives me a nudge, to which I respond with a shrug and a whispered "Whaaat?"

He merely looks at me, and I don't need him to tell me out loud that I should cut the guy some slack. I roll my eyes for good measure, but I nod. Still, it's not like I'd have said it to his face or anything. The main reason? I'd be worried Rhoop'd cut my face clean off with that sword if I got within 100 feet of him, never mind trying to talk to him.

"Stand down!"

Sadrian and I return our attention to the situation at hand, which just so happens to be Caspian having everyone lower their crossbows and weapons.

"Let's get him on board, quickly!"

"Caspian, have you lost your marbles too?" I hiss, yanking his arm so he's facing me. "Have you gone completely bat-shit crazy?"

"Not now, Nikki." He tries to dismiss me, but I'll have none of it.

"You want that crazy-as-a-possum guy on this ship? What's gotten into you?!"

"Nikki, we need his sword and he's the last of the Seven Lords. We have to help him!"

"What if he turns your face into sushi? What then, may I ask?"

A brief confused expression from Caspian spurs different vocabulary.

"As in, chops at you with that sword you need?"

"We'll talk to him." Caspian's tone implies that this is final, but I'm still not convinced.

"Since you're the king, I have to do what you say. However, know that if he turns you into dog food, I get to say 'I told you so' and I ain't taking care of the guy either."

"I wouldn't expect you too."

The crew is preparing to swing ropes with little pointy, 3-fingered things on the end to somehow get Rhoop on board, but a non-aggressive roar renders this unnecessary.

"Aw, Eustace is just so nice!" I grin up at the dragon as he swoops down, picks up Lord Rhoop in his paws, and deposits him as gently as possible on the deck. Though Eustace is smart too – as soon as Rhoop is safely on the deck, that dragon disappears again. I don't blame the guy – I wouldn't want to be around when this crazy lord came to anyway. But I must say, I can't help but give a quiet little giggle at the combination roar, growl, and yell that comes out of the good lord's mouth.

"Be calm, my lord!" Caspian says loudly, his hands in front of him in a soothing kind of manner.

"Off me, demon!" yowls Rhoop, waving that pointy, surely-human-sushi-chopping sword.

"No, my lord. We are not here to hurt you. I am your king – Caspian."

This seems to calm the guy down a bit, as he freezes in place. Even that pointy sword of his is nice and still.

"Caspian?" he echoes, eyes wider than usual. Well, that is, if he can be called usual.

"My lord!" Rhoop turns around, practically worshiping Caspian as he does. He even puts a hand against Caspian's face, as if he's testing if he's real.

I actually feel sorry for the guy. I mean, he's clearly lost all of his marbles, but he is pitiable. I'm getting the impression this place isn't exactly the kind of place everyone's jumping to hang out in. Just a side observation.

"You should not have come! There's no way out of here!" Back to his outside voice it is, and back to the frantic craziness as well. "Quickly, turn this ship about before it's too late!"

Edmund trades a quick glance with Caspian and says, "We have the sword, let's go!"

"Let's turn her about, Drinian," orders Caspian, turning to head up the stairs.

Just then, at this precise moment of flurried action to leave, I hear a faint, very faint strangled garble sort of sound. Now normally I would dismiss it as one of the many figments of my imagination, but I almost think I recognize the voice. Unless my ears are playing tricks on me, it almost sounds like Laurah. Distorted and completely unlike her, but still her voice.

"Wait!" I call. No one turns around. "WAIT!" That does the trick. Everyone stops dead in their tracks, staring at me in confusion.

"Nikki, what on ear-"

"Hush, don't you hear that?" The sound has started up again, and I refuse to let this ship leave unless we know for sure Laurah's not here.

Caspian cocks his head slightly to the side, and it continues. It doesn't look like he can hear it though, by his face.

"Nikki, I think you were just-"

"No, wait, Your Majesty; I hear it too," Sadrian interrupts, looking at me as he does. I can't tell if he's just buying me time or he really does hear that, but either way, I'm in no mood to question.

"Edmund, can you hand me your flashlight for a second?"

He looks at me in confusion, and I remember he's British.

"Torch, the dang torch!" I correct exasperatedly, my fingers curling and uncurling impatiently.

Luckily, he obliges, and I shine the thing all around the water around the ship. At first, there's nothing. But then, on a tiny little rock sticking up, I can see a shape laying flat on the mini-miniature island.

"There, ya see that?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see some people nodding, Caspian and Sadrian included.

It's so small it's hard to tell what it is, but it almost looks like a girl. I'm wondering how we're going to get whoever or whatever it is on board, when Eustace is kind enough to pick it up and fly it over to the deck. I throw Edmund his light and help catch the thin, skeletal girl that falls from the dragon's claws.

* * *

><p><em>Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.<em>

"Failure."

"Curse."

"Scum."

"Filth."

"Evil."

Voices echo all around me, driving me even further from cohesiveness than ever. Strangled sort of sounds warble their way out of my throat, but I make no effort to contain them. I lie facedown on a hard, cold, gritty-smelling piece of nothing. I'm giving up, I have given up, I am nothing. There is nothing here, there is nothing there, there is nothing anywhere.

Other sounds float up around me besides my own conjuring, but I still can't care. I'll be dead soon anyway, and I'll be transformed from nothing into nothing. What is real? Not even pain is – it is taken over each time by the nothing.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

Clammy hands, my hands I think, clench and unclench the small roughages in the hard nothing, and there's a wetness oozing between my fingers. It smells a little metallic, but what does it matter? It is nothing, I am nothing.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." The ragged, scratchy sounds seem to be my voice, and I claw my fingernails on the rock. The tearing of my skin brings a sort of release. I feel nothing still, but nothing doesn't seem quite as empty as before.

Then, nothings seem to shift a bit, and pressure seems to be on my waist. An odd sort of thing, and nothing to claw now. Where is my resting rock, my hard nothingness? No matter. It was doomed anyway. Everything is doomed, and nothing is doomed, because everything is nothing. Nothing upon nothings, ravings of madness. Nothing is madness. I am still madness.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

The pressure around my middle releases, only to be replaced by pressure under me. My hands go to count my ribs again, because I have nothing to do. I don't care what happens or is happening to me, I can't care, I won't care, the nothing can't care, the nothing doesn't care.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."

Strange…it almost seems like there's another voice answering. I start to imagine a shapeless being, but I quickly lose interest. What does it even matter, anyway?

Whatever thing it is doesn't pipe down and let me be: it shakes me by the shoulders, making my teeth rattle against each other. At some point, maybe I would have cared. But the tiny little whispers of discomfort that are the result of this treatment feel good, so I don't do anything to stop it. What could I do anyway? I am helpless against this place.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

My body is shaken harder, and something very loud hollers into my ears. Are my eyes still closed? They might be, because I can't see anything. But what is there to see? Only nothing – the nothing that is everything. Maybe all this ruckus, even if it isn't real, will finally put me out of my misery. Since I still can't conjure up the guts to lower myself into the wet stuff below, I'll take whatever I can get. Of dying, that is.

Madness, madness, madness. I am mad, I am lost. My eyes must be open now, because everything is spinning. Spinning and spinning and spinning, a crazy whirlwind of things old, and new, and borrowed, and blue. More loud noises, but I can't tell if they're my screams of other screams. Mist can scream – mist can hiss too.

Slithering, hissing snake in my head, biting at the inside of my skull. Fangs dripping with venom, eyes beady and yellowed with malice. Does it mean to kill me? A shake of its scaled little head assures me that no, I deserve to suffer much more than in mere death.

My nails scratch at my head, and this time I know the screams are mine. My shoulders are released, but before my back hits the ground, or whatever it is I'm on, I'm caught by a pair of hands. For a moment, it's the nicest thing I've ever felt, it seems. No pain associated with it at all – it's almost…gentle.

But I don't deserve such niceties, and this place knows it. Reality is blurred, a madness. Gentleness morphs into thousands of needles, sticking into my skin and my face and everywhere that hurts. Garbled, freakish shrieks tear from my throat – inhuman sounds they are, and frightening even to me, the originator of them.

I'm all alone now – no hands are touching me. I can't see to tell if I'm truly alone, but the snake still striking around in my head rattles its tail, as if to remind me that I'll never, ever be alone again- it'll always be here to torture me. Yet again, the fangs sink into the inside of my brain, and no amount of scratching or screaming will stop the waves of pain that beat relentlessly against my body. I can hear my heart beating erratically, beating fast and then not at all, less constant than anything here. Why can't it just give out already? Why does it have to hang on for so agonizingly long? Why can't I just finally die here?

Suddenly, the snake stops striking for a moment. Out of the corner of my bloodshot eye, I catch a faint, very faint light- it seems to be from my wrist. I remember having a bracelet there once. Maybe it's still there?

Light multiplies, and a wave of it washes over me. I can't help the tears now streaming from my eyes. It feels so…**nice.** Too wonderful to put in words, this momentary taste of peace and good. It washes the snake away, though it hisses and strikes at this beautiful, beautiful thing. I'm free of the snake.

It fades, this wondrous golden wave of good, but no new horror comes to terrorize me. Perhaps I am still mad, but I can survive. I start to wonder where it came from, that savior in light, and then it comes to me. I am a sprite, not a human. That must have been my mother, it must have.

More tears spill from my eyes, eyes that can see without the world spinning round and round like a frenzied wheel. My vision is too blurry to make much out, but I'm too grateful for simply being able to **see** to care. Gentle hands lift me, my shoulders. Arms support me from behind, and it almost seems like I'm being held in someone's lap.

My eyes focus enough to see what looks to be a man's face in front of my own. He lifts a hand to my cheek, almost tenderly. His skin is warm against my icy face. I look up, and see another face, a familiar one. I know her from somewhere, I think. She's the one supporting my back.

I think both of them say something, but I can't understand. I must be losing some of my crazy, my senseless madness, because I actually want to understand, even if only a little. It's almost like I owe it to them. They don't seem to want to hurt me, prove to me how little I really deserve.

"Laurah?"

Wait, that's my name, isn't it? It seemed to come from him, the man leaning over me and cupping my cheek with his hand. Do I know him? I don't think I know him. Does he know me? Maybe the girl holding me up told him my name. Yes, that must be it.

My mind starts to scream that this is just another piece of torture, a taste of good that will turn into the worst pain yet. It orders me not to trust them, these seemingly good beings. Are they human? They can't be sprites, because what would sprites be doing here? Half of me is convinced they're monsters in disguise, but the other half remembers the good that came from my bracelet. They could be good too. Good monsters? Or just good?

The madness is creeping back in, I can feel it. Even good must fade, it seems. My eyes are darkening, and I can hear the ominous rattle of that snake's tail. It's coming back. And there's nothing I can do, I know. My body trembles because I know this round of crazy is bound to be the worst yet. Hope is foolishness, and I won't be fooled by it.

Hands on my face, but the gentleness must be a lie. A soft voice crooning to me, whispering my name with increasing urgency, but this was all too good to be true anyhow. Louder and louder the rattle gets, and harder and harder I tremble. The snake appears, and my mouth opens in the beginnings of a scream, anticipating the pain.

Something drops onto my tongue, a strange liquid both spicy and sweet. A tingle courses through my veins as the drop trickles down my throat. The rattles quiets. My scream is still stillborn. My fear fades a little, even if it's foolish to let it. The tiniest slivers of clarity register. My eyes focus on the man's face before me, whose hand is wiping away tears I didn't even realize were on my cheeks. Why are his eyes red-rimmed too? Surely he hasn't been trapped in here as well.

Two voices mingle together, his and the girl's. I can't quite get what they're saying, but I can understand they're frightened. Of me? Or of this place? They would be wise to be frightened of both.

Another drop of something falls, but lands on my face instead of my mouth. My first guess is that it was a tear, but I don't know why I guess that. Then again, I'm still mad, so rationality isn't first nature.

My ears are clear enough to hear though, and my name is constantly being repeated. Murmured and yelled, spoken softly and frantically. It's making my head spin. That drop in my mouth isn't doing a whole lot of good, save keeping the snake away. Still, I think I could understand them now, if I try hard enough. I have nothing better to do really, so I do.

"Come on chica, snap out of it! You're stronger than this, I know you are!"

"Laurah, please. I can't…I can't lose you again."

The man's words confuse me, because I don't know why he's saying them – they don't make any sense, if things are capable of making sense. But I think I know the girl, so I can make sense of her being worried, I guess. But him? What is he talking about?

I open my mouth, trying to speak, but it's so hard. I'm too used to screaming to form those coherent things called words. Croaks come out of my throat, and I can tell they don't understand me. I try as many times as I have to before my question comes out, addressed to the man.

"Who are you?"

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><p><strong>Well, this one was a little shorter than the others, but I just had to end it there xD I do hope all you fabulous readers understand ;)<strong>

**The poll is still up if you haven't voted and want to, and I'll probably leave it up for another week or so. **

**Once again, massive thank you's to my wonderful reviewers, old and new! You guys make all the late night so worth it! Love you all! **

**I'll be writing like a madwoman this weekend, but how fast I get the chapters up depends on how much the Internet is up :] But worst case scenario, it'll be 3 or 4 days before the next update, but I'll have 2 or more chapters waiting to be uploaded. ;)**

**And if you have a minute to leave a review, I'd love hearing from ya!**


	15. Chapter 14

**Hey all! Another chapter, right on schedule...I'm so proud of me! xD**

**Garideth - Ahahaha that made me laugh my dear! xD It's amazing what caffeine and sugar will do to a person, especially when writing Nikki POV...  
>And thank you, I take a certain pride in my evilness XD<br>Haha I shall, in February ;) Gotta stay on top of my writing for the next 9 days! Wait...ONLY 9 DAYS! 8l**

**Evy201 - Well, ya know how I love a little plot twist...xP But don't worry, I may be nice and have some cute moments...or maybe I'll save those for another fanfic xD  
>But good call, Nikki will indeed have some role to play. ;)<strong>

**WriteToEscapeReality1309 - Awwwww, why thank you! Gosh I love reviews like that...they make me feel all warm and smiley and fuzzy inside! xD And here's your update dearie! ;)**

**Disclaimer - Don't own Narnia. And I don't even care about the grammar on that statement.**

**Enjoy, y'all!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

I can't quite believe what just came out of her mouth. How can she not remember him? Caspian, her FIANCÉE!

But all it takes is a second glance down at this skeleton that is Laurah for me to not only believe, but understand. I have no idea what she's been through here, but I do know she's past the realm of sanity. My first inclination is to shake her to her senses like I've always done, but it won't do any good. What happened to my best friend? It's like I've lost her. And if it hurts for me, I can't imagine what's going through Caspian's head.

First off, that was the first time I've ever seen a man cry. Okay, so it was only one tear. But still, I feel like crying a whole ocean-ful of tears after seeing that. Haven't they earned a happily ever after? After so much time apart? It's cruel, really, them being torn apart by this…this **thing** we're in right now. This island, where that **thing** lives. It's stolen Laurah from us, I can see it in her eyes.

They're not even her eyes! Her eyes are a deep green, like emeralds, that sparkle whenever Caspian is even mentioned. These eyes are a pale, washed out green that swirls like the mist in here, and they're vacant of any sparkle or light or anything of the sort. They're the eyes of a ghost, not of a girl in love. Not of my best friend, either.

As soon as that "Who are you?" leaves Laurah's mouth, Caspian sort of freezes. He's a little shocked, naturally, but not as much as I was expecting. But I guess after seeing Laurah like this, especially after that fit of screaming a little bit ago, made it a little less shocking than it would have been otherwise. Still, I can see how much that hurt. It almost looks like another tear might fall, but he holds it back.

"Hey, I can take care of her. Go take a minute if you need," I whisper gently to him, one of my hands briefly laying on his shoulder. I know I'd need a minute and more were I in his shoes. Though I've never been much of a girl for boots, so just as well. Sneakers are more my speed.

He shakes his head mutely and stays right where he is. Seeing that kind of…I don't know, devotion? Tenderness? Love? Almost sends a whole freaking flood from my own eyes. I swear under my breath, because it feels really good and I'd really rather swear than cry.

Still supported in my lap, Laurah just stares ahead, and I don't think she's even focused on Caspian anymore. I can't even think of something off the cuff to say – needless to say, that only happens once in a blue moon. Why is she so skinny? Oh, right. If she's been here as long as we've been in Narnia, then that would be around a week, give or take a few days. I guess there isn't food here, not that she'd have been sane enough to know to eat it.

What am I even thinking? Pure nonsense, or stuff that doesn't really matter anyway. Who cares what happened, how about what to do to help her in the, um, **now**? That'd be a touch more helpful, wouldn't it Nikki dearest? Except I'm not good at helping, I'm good at being the sarcastic friend for a friend with little problems but sanity intact. I never got any training in rehab for people who've gone ape-shit crazy! And that's not meant in a bad way.

"Your Majesty, are we ready to turn about?"

Caspian slowly tears his gaze away from Laurah to nod at Captain Drinian, who immediately hurries to the upper deck.

"Do not think! Do not let it know your fears, or it will become them!" Rhoop cries, a crazed look in his eye. So that's what happened to him.

Wait, he was trapped here too. So what happened to him…well, it must have happened to Laurah too! This revelation smacks me in the head like a 50-pound sack of potatoes, just as Edmund starts apologizing. For what?

"Edmund, what did you just think of?" cries Lucy, looking very much panicked.

"Oh I'm sorry."

He races to the other side of the deck, but I grab Caspian's arm to get his attention.

"Caspian, that's what happened to her! Don't you see, it drove her mad by showing her everything she's afraid of, maybe even some of the things she was afraid would happen that did!"

Caspian's face lights in understanding, then pain. I guess he loves her so much that her pain is his pain – what hurts her hurts him almost as much, if not as much. So really, this mist stuff won twice: hurting her beyond repair, and hurting Caspian too.

"Don't do this, Caspian," I order sternly. He needs to be here for her, and this place isn't going to win by destroying them both. I refuse to let it.

He lifts his head a little, confusion painting lines in his face.

"Don't let it win."

Seeming to understand, he looks me in the eye and nods ever so slightly, though he does so with a little bit of a struggle. Still, what counts is that he'll try, even in the midst of this mess.

Just then, the whole ship jerks and throws everyone to the deck, myself included.

"What in the name of Skittles was that?" I growl, glad I was supporting Laurah's back, because it saved her from most of the jolt. With how skinny she is, a sharp knock against the deck could very well break a bone, or at least it looks like it. She doesn't react much to the sudden shift in position, other than simply letting her head drop back, fortunately into my lap.

Instantly, my hands fly to cradle her head, wipe her damp hair from her face, gather her arms from their sprawled position on the deck, check for injuries. She seems to be alright though, insofar as not having any scrapes or breaks or cuts from the jolt.

"Too late. It's too late!" yells Rhoop, as Gael backs away from the rail.

Caspian pulls himself to his feet and swoops Laurah up into his arms, cradling her and giving me the time to get to my own feet. We're on the opposite side of the ship from everyone else, the side Gael's backing towards.

"GAEL!" Lucy's scream shakes us all, especially since there's a huge splash behind us. And what caused the splash? Well, it seems Edmund thought up a sea serpent. I make a mental note to smack him for that later.

"Come on!" Caspian yells, racing out of the ugly beasty thing's path, Laurah in his arms.

Lucy dashes forward to grab Gael, and I have enough sense to get out of the way too, even in the midst of imagining all the ways I can get Ed back for this stroke of luck. At the moment, a frying pan to the head sounds marvelous. We all stand behind a line of archers, as ready as we can be with barely a moment's notice. Once again, thank you Edmund.

Personally, I'm worried about how we're going to keep Laurah safe for all this. She's already looking worse – clutching at the sides of her head as her mouth opens in silent screams. In an instant, I'm beside Caspian and murmuring "Shh" and "It'll be alright" into her ear. I'm not even thinking about the serpent now, only about my best friend who's tormented by even the sounds the horrid thing makes.

I hear something other than the serpent behind us, and a glance shows me it's Eustace. That kid officially has guts. Just saying. Said dragon attacks the serpent, but unfortunately this thing isn't intimidated.

"Hey, no fair!" I shout, as Eustace is trapped in the mouth of the sea-snake. Poor dragon-guy – he gets smacked into the side of the ship and tossed aside like a rag doll. He seems to recover, only to be snatched again and dragged beneath the water in the serpent's mouth. I'm frustrated, because I can't do a thing to help.

Above water they come, and Eustace is sent flying into a rock, a grunt of pain coming from the dragon.

"Get up Eustace, come on!"I shout frantically. "Roast that mother-effer and eat it for lunch!"

Eustace doesn't get up completely, but he manages to let out a stream of fire right in the serpent's face, eliciting a cheer and a whoop from me. This dragon is finally kicking some butt! And ugly-faced sea-snake doesn't much like having its face on fire (though honestly, it's so ugly a few burn marks couldn't make it look any worse), so it dives back under the surface.

"Woohoo! Let's hope it's gone for good, yes?" I hoot, giving the air a fist-pump for good measure.

Suddenly, I'm violently pushed to the side by none other than Lord Poop – excuse me, Lord **Rhoop** – as he yells, "Out, creature!"

Edmund is screaming frantically as the sword goes flying out of Rhoop's hand – straight into Eustace's shoulder. He lets out a dragon-scream as Lucy and I both cry, "Eustace!"

He flies off crookedly and with a roar, and I can't say I blame him really.

"No come back!" Lucy calls frantically, but it's no use.

Meanwhile, Lord Rhoop, who I think I'll just call Lord Crazy, marches to the upper deck.

"We are doomed, doomed. Turn this ship about!" With that, Lord Crazy gives the wheel a mighty spin and almost send us all right back to the deck. I lurch over to Caspian to help him keep his footing, so he won't drop Laurah. Though by the way he's standing, he'd fall first and she second.

Convinced she's in good hands, I turn around just in time to see the good captain knock out Lord Crazy with a well-timed clonk on the noggin. Nice going, Captain!

"All crew to your rowing positions. Oars at double speed," the captain swiftly orders, steadying the wheel.

The ship is finally heading out of here, and Caspian has still managed to keep Laurah in his arms, and right now, it looks like it's the safest place she could be.

But we're not moving fast enough, not if the hiss I hear is any indication. I race to the rail and peer behind the ship, only to see the serpent recovered and heading straight for us. It disappears into the water, and I have just enough time to race to Caspian and scream a warning before it reappears. Oh, did I mention it throws itself over the deck?

Luckily, we're on the side towards the back, which means we can get into the cabin still. Lucy apparently thinks like me, because she grabs Gael by the hand and hurries her off deck, and Caspian and I are right on her heels. Before running through the door, a quick glance back shows me that this ugly slime of the sea is wrapping itself around the ship, its body almost looking like a corkscrew in roller coaster tracks. And its coloring is about what my face would look like too.

I yell this observation to Caspian as I follow them into the cabin, where Lucy sits Gael on the far side of the bed, saying, "Now you must stay here until someone comes and gets you, okay?" And after grabbing a bow and quiver of arrows, she's gone again.

Caspian takes a little more time, because Laurah is so darn fragile.

"Nikki, stay here with her? Neither of you should be in battle."

I'm surprised by how calm his voice comes out, considering the emotional roller coaster he must be riding, but I nod steadily, wrapping the skeleton that's the only thing left of my best friend in my arms as he sets her down with the epitome of gentleness. Laurah's eyes are wide and staring into nothing in particular, and painfully vacant. Caspian tenderly touches her bony cheek, brushes a feather-light kiss on her brow, and sprints out the door, closing it firmly on his way out.

She hasn't spoken words since asking that heart-wrenching "Who are you?" to Caspian, and it looks like she'll keep that silence up. But I must say, the few times her eyes turn to me, she does look like she recognizes me at least a little. She seems grateful for my embrace too.

Amid the sounds of a battle, Gael makes her way over to us and asks quietly what happened to her.

"It was this place. It drove her mad." It's a simple explanation, but it's the only one I can get out without choking on the words.

The young girl before me doesn't seem to understand, at least not fully. I suppose it's for the best though: she is so very young, especially to know the details. I throw her a smile and open my arm, which she is happy to nestle under. And that about sums up that. More sounds of battle follow, but the three of us are safe enough, Laurah and Gael nestled under my arms.

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><p>Caspian races from the cabin to the helm, dodging the serpent's body as he goes. The hideous creature rears its head up, snarling at the ship below and ready to go in for the kill. A sudden idea strikes him as his eyes wander to the sharp rock jutting up from the water a little ways off, on the port side.<p>

"Ed! Ed, we ram the serpent – smash him on the rocks," Caspian shouts over the noise.

"Steer her to port; I'll keep it on the prowl." Edmund must be nervous at least a little, but Caspian nods. What Ed will do could mean the difference between everyone's survival and everyone's death.

Movement on the stairs catches Caspian's eye, and a quick glance shows Lucy, with Susan's bow and arrows, running up the steps to the upper deck. He wasn't aware she could shoot, but apparently it was just one of the things that slipped his notice.

Meanwhile, he can see Ed climbing his way into the dragon's head that graces the bow of the ship. Shining his torch at the beast, the Just King shouts at it, baiting it. The thing accepts the challenge, leering over the dragon's head and growling ominously deep in its throat.

Slowly, it draws back, as if scrutinizing the bait, deciding it's worth the effort. Apparently it is, because the next instant the serpent strikes, its tentacled jaws enveloping the dragon's head – right where Edmund was.

"NO!"

"Edmund!" Caspian's shout of worry comes only moments after Lucy's scream.

The monster bites the entire upper half of the dragon's face and tears the wood from the ship, tossing it aside when it discovers there was no living flesh in it to consume. They don't have a lot of time, but they're so close to the rocks now.

There's Edmund, climbing over the splintered remains of the dragon's head, away from the jaws of the sea-serpent. The thing's tail inches dangerously close to the ship's wheel, the helm where Caspian stands, turning the _Dawn Treader_ to the rocks as quickly as he can.

The monstrosity snaps at Edmund's retreating form, missing him by inches, much to Caspian's worry. There's Lucy on the steps, taking her aim as the serpent prepares to strike.

"Lucy, shoot!" Caspian yells, still turning the wheel.

She does, and the red-tailed arrow flies straight and true, hitting the beast's eye, blinding it momentarily. But that moment is enough. It hisses and screeches as Caspian shouts out a final warning.

"Brace yourselves!"

It's rearing back, to take one final, though half-blind, snap at its prey – Edmund. Just as it lunges, he leaps off the wooden head, crashing into the serpent's body and then to the deck, rolling into a piece of debris. But the ship has done its job well – the serpent screeches from the impact on the rocks only moments ago, green mist leaking from the wound.

The _Dawn Treader_ drifts backwards from the impact as the sea-beast stands tall again, green magic shooting into the thing from all sides. Taller and taller it grows, roaring scratchily as its wound is erased and a hood opens below its head, so it now resembles a cobra with tentacles everywhere. Caspian rushes down from the helm to help Edmund to his feet, and he seems to be alright.

But all it takes is one look at the upgraded monster for Edmund to freeze in fear, staring up at the new hood of tentacles that rattles like the tail of a snake. Caspian watches all this, and sees what Edmund can not – the serpent will strike soon, and Edmund is in the way.

"Move!" Caspian knew his yell of warning wouldn't be enough, so he dives for the Just King, knocking them both to the ground, but safely out of the serpent's path. A very good thing, since it strikes just as the two flew out of its reach.

While facedown on the deck, Caspian's eyes catch sight of a sword only inches away from his fingertips, a sword that he swiftly takes up and swings over to the serpent close by, the blow cutting a writhing tentacle clean off the beast's hood.

Shrieking at the sudden pain, it withdraws from the deck, drawing itself to its full height. But Caspian's eyes turn to the freshly-severed tentacle, which evaporates into mist before his eyes. With that, comes hope.

"We can beat this," he murmurs resolutely.

The serpent is certainly up for the fight it seems, and it'll drag the entire ship down if it can. Angrily snarling, the horrid thing takes the sail in its mouth, causing the ship to lurch to one side from the force.

"We have to get it closer." Edmund gets to his feet quickly, his fear seeming to leave him.

"All hands to the main deck!" yells Drinian. The men scurry to obey.

"Ready the harpoons," Caspian adds, another idea taking shape. Maybe they'll be enough to pull its head down to Ed can finish it. But it'll have to be soon, before the serpent turns the entire ship on its side.

While Ed makes his way to the Crow's Nest, Caspian helps his crew attach rope to the sharp metal spearhead-type weapons. They set sail ready for battle, so it's the work of minutes. Now a whole line of men have these in their hands, all awaiting Caspian's order.

"Ready!" he calls, waiting for the right moment. "Now!"

As one, the line charges forward and hurls the harpoons straight into the sea-serpent's flesh. Shriek after shriek sounds from it, shrieks that almost, for a moment, sound like those Caspian heard from Laurah's mouth not so long ago, in her screaming fit. That realization makes his heart clench and his blood run cold, to say nothing of breaking his concentration.

"Your Majesty!"

Caspian snaps out of his momentary trance, his fingers regaining their strong hold on the harpoon rope. The time for worry is later, after this thing is defeated. It's struggling hard, and it takes all of everyone's strength to keep it where it is.

"Pull its head down!"

The men struggle to obey, grunts of exertion escaping everyone's lips, even Caspian's. Fighting against the pressure and pain, the serpent makes every frightening sound Caspian could ever dream up, and more. But it'll be worth it – Caspian can see Edmund on the ladder to the Crow's Nest out of the corner of his eye. He's almost there…almost there…he's there!

But this evil thing is strong, too strong, and holding it down is almost impossible.

"Heave!" Caspian encourages the men. They're almost there. There's no opportunity to look to the Crow's Nest anymore – every ounce of energy in all of them goes to keeping the rope from slipping through their fingers. Everything seems to go in slow motion now. The groans of the men, the struggle of the serpent, the see-sawing attempts to get the head down close enough for Edmund to kill it.

Just then, the serpent wins this struggle. The ropes hold fast, but the wood of the ship doesn't; the anchor for the harpoons snaps away from the inside of the rail, throwing Caspian and his men to the deck, and the serpent again rears its head, unrestrained by the harpoons now.

From his position on the ground, Caspian sees a blue light in the Crow's Nest. But the serpent is drawing close to Edmund, there in the Crow's Nest, and he doesn't seem to be doing anything.

So Caspian yells up to him, hoping he hasn't been tricked by the mist. "Do it!"

"Come on!" Edmund's challenge to the beast is quickly answered – the evil thing descends on the Just King, mouth open to devour and kill, but as it does, it seems to stop for a moment.

Lightning, green and glowing, shoots from it, and it withdraws, stretching up from the water. The lightning spreads, shooting up into the roof of Dark Island, and the serpent falls into the water, dead.

Green thunder sounds throughout the place, drumming in everyone's bones. From his sprawled position on the deck, Caspian sees thin rays of light poking through the dark, widening before his eyes.

"The spell – it's lifting. Edmund! Caspian! Look!" cries Lucy, looking positively radiant with joy.

Soon, all traces of the dark magic have faded, leaving only light in its place. And there, off the starboard side, the faint outlines of boats can be seen.

"Narnians!" A collective cry of relief and joy echoes through the ship as boats full of Narnians come into view a little ways away.

Caspian sees Lucy leave her place standing next to him to go to Gael, and that reminds him who else weathered the battle in the cabin. Patting Edmund's shoulder in congratulations, Caspian headed to the cabin to see if Laurah was at least no worse than before. Maybe, now that the spell had been lifted, she might-

No, he refused to get his hopes up that high. Not after seeing what Dark Island had done to her with his own eyes. He would only allow himself to hope that she was some semblance of alright. And nothing more.

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><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

Things seem to have quieted down out there, and Rhince just came and got Gael, so I'm guessing it's alright to go back on deck now. Laurah's still curled up into a tight little ball, eyes wide like a frightened child's. She didn't move the entire battle, other than to curl up tighter when the ship lurched this way or that.

The door eases open to reveal Caspian, looking very soaked to the bone, battle-tired, and quite frankly, in need of a little cat nap, and that's just looking at the bags under his eyes.

"Wow. You look pretty awful there."

He grins wearily at my greeting before his gaze shifts to Laurah. She doesn't look up, and I can't tell if she's caught up in a trance, or simply didn't hear him come in, or just doesn't care, or just didn't react. Whichever it is, I shake her gently, trying to ignore how pointy her bony shoulder is against the palm of my hand.

"You awake there chica?

She stirs lightly, blinking once, twice. Her eyes look so big compared to the rest of her sunken face now, so she almost looks like a little owl when she blinks. A very old little owl that's seen far too much in its lifetime.

"Laurah?" He approaches her slowly, because he knows how brittle and frail she is.

She doesn't flinch away from his whisper-soft touch, but she doesn't move toward it either. Still, it's better than screaming her head off. Maybe Lucy's cordial did help a little after all, even if only a little.

"Battle's over, chica. Feel like going on deck?" I ask, stroking her thinned hair.

"Nikki?" she croaks out, her owl gaze fixed on me.

"Yeah, it's me chica. I followed you, remember?"

The tiniest of smiles lifts the tips of her mouth ad she nods slowly, mutely.

"You remember Caspian, don't you? He's missed you somethin' awful he has."

Her brow knits together in confusion at my question, and her blinking owl-eyes go from me to Caspian and back again. How could she not remember him?

"Is the mist stuff all taken care of?" I ask Caspian quietly, not knowing if the mere mention of the stuff will send Laurah into a fit of hysterics.

He nods once, and we're both more confused than ever. We were both expecting her to come to her senses after the evil stuff got taken care of I guess, me even more so than him. I'm about to ask again, but Caspian just shakes his head. I can't bear to think he's given up already, but I'll talk with him about it later, without Laurah here.

"Did you want to go on deck? Get out of this little cabin?"

Another ghost of a smile up-turns the corner of her mouth, so Caspian moves forward to sweep her up off the floor and carry her outside. Neither of us thinks she's in any kind of condition to walk. For a moment, his proximity seems to unsettle her, but a nod from me reassures her, and she lets him pick her up. She looks even tinier than before nestled in his arms. Caspian isn't an overly huge guy, but he's got muscle and he's tall, so Laurah looks like a tiny toothpick hobbit. It'd be cute, if it were different circumstances, such as ones where I wasn't worried about her dying of starvation in the next hour.

I follow Caspian out to the deck, where everyone is celebrating and helping the Narnians in boats on board. There's Gael and Rhince, reunited with Haylene, who I'm assuming to be Rhince's wife and Gael's 'mummy.' Hm, I just noticed pretty much everyone has British accents around here. This is heaven!

Well, mostly. Laurah seems like she's doing a little better with Dark Island taken care of, but she still looks confused and wary. I can't help but wonder if she'll always have these old owl eyes, just because of how truly out of her mind she went. Though technically, I guess she still might be out of her mind. What is that condition called when you forget lots of stuff from the past? Um…oh yeah! Amnesia. Maybe that's what she got, just from whatever trauma she went through, which would have to be a lot knowing how strong that chica is.

Okay, this line of thought is seriously depressing. Like, as in walking-around-dismally-for-the-rest-of-ever kind of depressing. And quite frankly, no still not as in Frankenstein, Laurah has much more license to be depressed than I do, and it's my job to cheer her up. Especially as her best friend. I'd say it was Caspian's job too, but since she doesn't seem to remember him…well, let's just say we have to get her to realize who exactly he is before he can do much good for her.

A sudden spark of genius occurs to me, and I almost scream aloud to proclaim my indubitable ingenuity.

"Laurah, chica? Can you lift up your left hand for me?"

Caspian turns around so she can look at me, blinking her eyes slowly, not seeming to understand. No matter, I'll show her. Tentatively, I reach toward her, hoping she won't flinch away. However, since she seems to remember me I'm not overly worried she will.

My hunch is right, and she lets me gently take a hold of her left hand. Yep, it's still there.

"Hey chica, do you remember what this is?" I ask, pointing to the emerald engagement ring still sitting on her finger.

Her brow crinkles and she stares at her ring finger in puzzlement. Slowly, decisively, she shakes her head, and I don't miss the flash of pain that crosses Caspian's face. Quite frankly, that hurts me a lot too.

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><p><strong>Alrighty, that's Chapter 14! Gosh, this is taking forever...I thought they'd be starting on the voyage home by now. Ah well, just means this story will be a bit longer than TDWAP. :P<strong>

**Once again, thank you all readers, silent or reviewers! **

**And any feedback is awesome, if you've got the time :)**


	16. Chapter 15

**Yay, I'm finally ahead of the game as far as chapters completed versus chapters posted! *celebratory dance around house* I feel kind of awesome right now...Ah, gotta love that NaNoWriMo high that sets in after catching up on word counts!  
><strong>

**newgirl5 - I suppose he_ could_, were she to accompany Caspian, Lu, Ed, etc. to the end of the world...  
>But I'll try to keep some happy stuff in here for ya ;) Good thing Nikki came along, otherwise it'd be next to impossible :P<br>**

**Evy201 - Oh yeah, it should be at least a good 5 chapters longer than TDWAP, maybe more :P Because a LOT still has to happen in this story before I can do Book 3, aka To Have And To Hold. (Yep, that's the title!)  
>Now what? Well...it's actually in this chapter ;P<br>And thank you again for the continued support! :D  
><strong>

**WriteToEscapeReality1309 - You and me both :] I kinda miss writing their cutiful moments...eh, oh well I guess, I gotta be patient too XD  
>Haha that's Nikki for ya :P<br>And wish granted ;)  
><strong>

**Garideth - Well getting better can't happen overnight, elseways this story might just suck xD Still, I hear ya ;}  
>And no worries, I've got a few more chapters done than posted, so I'll be updating regularly for sure now ;)<br>**

**(Yet another) disclaimer - I do not own Narnia. (I know, I know, I'm sick of that too :P)  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

I'm so confused really. I do wish Nikki would just explain to me where I am and what's going on. But even I, in my half-mad state, can see the sadness in her face when she looks at me. It's a wonder she hasn't demanded to know what's the matter yet.

I'm still being held by the man I don't seem to know, one of his arms under my knees and the other behind my shoulders. It occurs to me that maybe he might be tired from holding me up, but he doesn't seem to mind. His gaze seems to be everywhere – on the boats in the distance, on the cheering men around the ship, on a boy and girl younger than the others, on me. I feel as if I owe him an immense debt, from getting me out of that place, and away from the mist. The snake hasn't come back, at least yet, and he does seem to care about my comfort.

However strange and foreign the kindness is to me, I am grateful. I wouldn't have expected such from a human, except of course Nikki. Even then, it's not something to take for granted. None of this heaven is.

There is no more mist it would seem, and my mind, though still in shambles, was helped along quite a bit by that strange spicy-sweet liquid. But in spite of all this **good**, there's no denying the dark that still lives in me. I can feel it burning, waiting for an opportunity to torment me again. It makes all this seem hollow, meaningless, hopeless. Do they even know the utter despair that life is? Of course they don't – they're all fools.

It would have been better if I died, wouldn't it? Of course it would. I am a nuisance, especially here, where everyone is healthy and strong and just won a battle against the mist. Why should I even stay? What's stopping me from hurling myself over the rail of the deck and letting the water fill my lungs? It would be so much better. No bother for them, no useless wandering on for me.

A hard shake to my shoulder unburies me from my thoughts, and I look up to see a very harsh-looking Niki staring me in the eye. It's like she knows exactly what I was thinking. Her voice comes out as a hiss, and I almost flinch at how it reminds me of the mist, even if only a little.

"Listen here chica, don't you do thinking anything like that ever again. You are alive for a reason, and alive you will remain. You won't die on my watch, got it?"

Frightened a little by her intensity, I nod, casting my eyes down at nothing in particular. They end up settling on the man's armor. He looks down at me, looking as if he wants to say something. I'm waiting for a reprimand similar to Nikki's, but he only trades a look with her and fixes his gaze at some point off in the distance.

I shoot eyes filled with questioning at my best friend, silently asking who he is. I think she might have told me, but I just can't remember. Nothing will stick inside my head for very long.

"This is Caspian. He's kind of the king."

At the word "king," my eyes widen and I squirm feebly to get out of his grasp. A king shouldn't have to hold something as worthless as me – I can stand on my own.

"It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you," he says softly, holding me to him tightly to keep me from falling, but gently like he's afraid of hurting me. He shouldn't even care about vermin like me. He's royalty!

He seems to know exactly what I'm thinking, and shakes his head at me slowly, refusing to let me go. Why does he care about me? What am I to him but a scared, pathetic little thing? But my thoughts are utterly silenced the moment his lips touch my skin.

I freeze, totally caught off-guard and without any idea what to do. But I also stop struggling, and I guess that was his goal. Blinking up at him, the sunlight streaming down making it hard to see the features of his face, I study him, trying to understand. There seems to be no basis for his unending tenderness. I can't understand it really, no matter how hard I try.

But I still want to stand on my own. So I struggle some more, a small sound of protest escaping my lips when the king still refuses to let me down. My voice still isn't really here, so my attempt at "Let go!" comes out as silence. I'm frightened of him, I really am. I can't pinpoint exactly why, but the fact remains.

Maybe he sees that in my eyes, because he slowly lowers me to the ground so I'm standing on my two feet. I ignore the unsteadiness of my legs to quickly step away from him and toward Nikki. Her, I know; her I trust. But the king? Not as of yet.

As I scoot over to Nikki, she shoots me a slight disapproving glance before sighing in defeat. I don't know why she wants me to be with the king so badly - I don't even know him!

But I won't hold it against her. She is my best friend, after all. So I silently motion to her with my eyes, asking who the dark-haired boy and girl are, the ones next to the king. She nods, and points to the girl first.

"That's Lucy. She's Queen Lucy the Valiant, from the Golden Age. Don't worry, she's very sweet. No need to be afraid of her." Now she motions to the boy, who almost looks like he could be Lucy - oops, Queen Lucy's - brother.

"And that's Edmund, King Edmund the Just. He can be a bit intense, but he's just fine too. Nothing to worry about from either of them." It sounds like she wants to say more, but she decides not to.

I gently tug on her sleeve and turn my eyes toward the other king - King Caspian. I do want to know more about him.

"Oh, Caspian? He's...well, where do I even start? I suppose I can't overload you with information, though I'd really like to. But let's just leave it at the fact he's a friend, okay? He's a really great guy, and he cares about you, more than you even know. You don't have anything to be afraid of on his quarter either. The only thing to be scared of is imitation butter. Seriously, that stuff is scary-fake and scary-gross. I don't know how they even came up with the recipe, except maybe by mixing pond scum and ogre snot together. Oh, and don't forget the yellow food coloring, and I don't even want to guess at what that's made of. Hey, remember that time we smothered our ice cream sundaes in food coloring? And promptly spit it across the room because it was so vilely disgusting? That was such a waste of some good Napoleon ice cream."

"Napoleon? French, right?" A smile creeps its way onto my face, because Nikki is just somehow making me feel ever so much better with these memories. We even left a bit of a stain on her bedroom wall that remains there to this day, if my memory serves me correctly. My smile grows when I realize I actually spoke aloud. I guess fear wasn't paralyzing my voice.

"Hey, good job chica! You spoke! Anyway, yes, there was a French dude named Napoleon. I hear he was incredibly short, fat, and arrogant though. Cranky too, if I'm remembering Mrs. Arnicky's history class to the tee."

I have trouble remembering at first, but then I vaguely recall the eccentricities of that teacher. Grey hair, round frame, and a bundle of endless and scatterbrained energy. My eyes have to light up a little at the memory.

Nikki smiles back, clapping a hand on my back, though much gentler than she usual would.

"That's it chica, you're getting the hang of it. Being happy, that is. Don't worry, we'll get you there."

My face colors in embarrassment, and I duck my head. I'm a little ashamed of my…depression? Something of the sort.

"Hey, don't get down on yourself. Hakuna matata," Nikki chirps, slinging an arm around my shoulders. I don't miss how she furrows her brow slightly in disapproval. I guess I'm too skinny.

Still, I manage a wider smile, because I am grateful to have Nikki here with me. Maybe it's good she came along after all. She makes some happy sort of sound and grins like a fool at my smile.

I feel other pairs of eyes looking at me too, and a glance to my side shows me that the three royals - King Caspian, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy - are all looking on and smiling too. Looking almost relieved. But why? I don't know them.

But still, it is touching, that they do care so much. King Caspian in particular. My fear of him is subsiding, even if only by a pinch. A little is better than nothing though, by his face. It almost looks like he's going to say something, but he never does.

Just then, everyone's suddenly distracted by a "Hey! Hey!" coming from somewhere in the water, or at least off the deck. The three royals rush to the edge of the splintered deck, looking at something - or rather, someone.

"I'm down here, Lucy! I'm in the water! Lucy!" calls a high-pitched boy's voice.

"Eustace!" Lucy answers, sounding quite happy to see him.

I almost join the three at the edge of the deck, but I can't bring myself to get that close. I still don't entirely trust them, in spite of Nikki's good words.

"I'm a boy again! I'm a boy!" the boy shouts happily, probably still bobbing in the water.

Was he not at some point? I can't help but be sorely confused by his choice of words, and I look to Nikki for clarification. She, thankfully, obliges me yet again.

"That's Eustace, as you heard. He used to be a dragon because he touched some enchanted treasure, and apparently the spell was only just now broken."

I nod once, wishing I could care more. There really is some evil in me, isn't there?

"Eustace! I see your wings have been slipped!" shouts another voice I don't know. Said voice is followed by a small splash.

At my questioning glance, Nikki explains, "Oh, that's Reepicheep, Reep for short. He's a Talking Mouse, and he's loads of fun. Also quite adorable, but don't let him hear you say that, he'll flip the freak out. Seriously, just ask Lucy."

I furrow my brow, but I can't help but be amused. This mouse sounds like quite the character. Maybe a little strange, just because the whole idea of animals talking is weird, but I still want to meet him. Or, it? I have no idea which pronoun is appropriate. He I suppose, since Reepicheep is a Talking Mouse, versus just a mouse.

I've lapsed into nonsense again, but I don't mind. Maybe I like being crazy in some twisted, masochistic kind of way, but I don't mind so much at all. Well, I don't mind when crazy means without the mist. With the mist? Well, that wasn't crazy; that was pure torment. My old phrase from my time there comes to me, and I immediately sink back down into the mindless repetition of it.

_Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue._

Yes, that's much better. Much better than trying to figure out…whatever this is. I don't really know where I am. But then, I never have. Madness, that is all everything is.

"Hey, snap out of it, chica!" A sudden shake stirs me, but I don't want to go back to what reality seems to be; I want to stay here, in my own world of nothing and madness and insanity. The snake and ghosts are gone, so there's nothing to fear. Nothing other than my own inventions, and whatever nothing turns out to be. There's too much of somethings here, and I miss the nothing in a sick sort of way. But is it really so sick to yearn for simplicity?

Madness is simple, in a way. It's simple and complicated, but I still prefer it to this. So I don't even care where I'm going, because it really doesn't matter. Wherever I go, I'll still end up in madness and nothing. I stumble forward, and I'm happy no one seems to realize enough to stop me. I think I'm going backward, but I don't care. It doesn't matter, I don't matter, nothing matters. Only the simplicity and peace of insanity matters, because it's so much easier than this. Reality is too complex, too painful.

Why is it I now yearn for the mist? Maybe because it wasn't real? It seems I'll be able to contemplate this in the water, because I feel myself falling and something wet smacking into my back. I suppose that''s the water, but I don't care.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

Is water blue? My eyes close, and visions of a blue river flowing to nowhere flashed through my mind. My warped, senseless mind, yearning for simplicity. So simple, this craziness is. I like it. I suddenly have trouble breathing, and it occurs to me that I finally found what I needed to end my life. I didn't need courage – I merely needed insanity, the deepest form of it possible, and I think I found that noncommitence to life I needed. Now I can die. Now, with the water filing my lungs, mouth, nose, and blurring my eyes, I can find my peace, the peace I've been needing so desperately ever since the mist found me.

There is no peace in life. I can only hope peace finds me in death. Peace, or more madness, or some combination of the two. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, because my body is still fighting to survive even if my mind isn't. The great paradox, I suppose. My body is afraid to die, but I welcome it. Even the pain that accompanies water replacing the air in my body is good.

Suddenly, an arm snakes around my waist. I hate it. It's pulling me up from the water, and I truly, truly hate it. It's taking my peace from me. So I fight it, as fiercely as I can. And it feels so good, just fighting for all I'm worth. I feel like I might just die there, from exhaustion. Starving to near death in the island did wonders for my strength or lack thereof. Truly, I feel glorious and wonderful and ready to die.

I'm pulled out of the water, away from my death, and hauled to the deck. Hands are pumping against my chest, forcing my heart to keep beating, to keep living. I hate it, and I fight to slow my heart slow and let it die, force it to die.

But lips are pressing against my own, forcing air into my lungs, past the water filling them to the brim. It hurts, so much more than filling them with water did. It burns, burns so bad that I think I might just die right here from the agony.

The hands pumping my heart on my chest force the water up bit by bit, and I'm coughing it up against my will. A voice is screaming frantically at me, and I think it's Nikki. But who's forcing me to stay alive? No one I know hopefully, because I'll be sure to make them sorry, somehow. Sorry for stealing whatever peace laid for me in death. Why should I have to live, in this world of far too many somethings? I want the nothing, want its simplicity, its permission to waste away into nothing, into itself.

"Laurah, you better come right back, do you understand?" Nikki's full out screaming, and close to my face too.

Something wet keeps dripping onto my face, and it tastes far saltier than the water did. In fact, the water tastes almost sweet, now that I think about it. Water that is being denied the privilege of staying in my lungs and drowning me from the inside out.

Again and again, water is forced up my throat, until there's none left for me to gag up. Whoever did this to me, forced me to live, I hate them for it. I hate what they did. I can't see who's to blame, because the ocean water messed up my vision for the moment. I don't know whether to be happy or angry that I can't start blaming the one who saved my life right this very second.

Lips press against my mouth again, forcing another lungful of air into me. I hate it, but I'm coming to appreciate the burn, the pain. Maybe if I scream out, they'll leave me be.

Still, in spite of this line of thought, the inhuman scream that tears from my throat isn't totally voluntary, but it does the job well. They all leap back, and I feel alone. Good, that's how it should be. I don't deserve human company, I deserve the simplicity of solitary madness that lies in death. I want it, because I know I deserve it.

The snake is threatening to return I think, but the rattle doesn't get any closer than a distant warning. I think my body is shaking, because my head is banging against the deck repeatedly, and hard. A headache ensues, but I do like it. Pain feels good, because it hints at death.

Then this is taken from me too, because a hand jumps under the back of my head and stop it from hitting the deck. Instantly, I hate that too. I hate everything that isn't pain or madness or death. In vain, I try to shift my head out of that hand's reach. Needless to say, it doesn't work. If anything, my action worsens my predicament.

Now instead of a hand under my head, there's an arm wrapping under and around my shoulders, lifting the upper half of my body from the deck.

"What were you thinking?"

That voice belongs to King Caspian, I think. It occurs to me that his voice seems to be breaking with sadness, but it doesn't really sink in. How could it? It's nothing old, nothing new, nothing borrowed, nothing blue. And that is what any something must be: old, new, borrowed, or blue. And that is all. It's all I'll accept, if I must stay alive. I'll hate every minute of life, but I'll manage with things old, new, borrowed, and blue. I'll just have to, by the way things are turning out so far.

I fight the sudden urge to cry, because it reminds me too much of how close I was to death, and peace. So close, and my chance was ripped from me. By King Caspian? It makes no sense, if he's the one who pulled me from the water. Why would he do that? What am I to him?

"Please Laurah, come on! Come back, I know you're in there! I know you can hear me, you stubborn chica! You better listen, understand?!" Nikki's still hollering at me it seems, and I do vaguely care. I don't want to cause her pain, even if I wish it on myself a thousand-fold. I can't wish harm on my best friend, even if I know it's the best thing for me. It's what I need, but it's what harms her.

"Listen to her, Laurah, even if you won't listen to me," King Caspian pleads. Is that his forehead resting on my own?

I open my eyes to see if my guess is right, and yes it indeed is. My first instinct is to shy away in fear at such close proximity to a stranger, but I don't. I guess I'm just intrigued at this display of emotion, at how much this man – king! – seems to care about me. Me, who wants nothing more than to stay lost in a realm of madness.

Will this forever be a puzzle I can't solve? This question of why I even mean anything to him at all, much less the immense amount he shows? It seems it will, because I lack the courage, will, tenacity, curiosity, I don't know what, to figure it out. I just want to find my sliver of peace in either death or total insanity. I don't want to have to suffer through this nightmare called life.

There it is again. That rattling of a serpent's tail. It wants this for me, and it strikes me as maybe a little odd that I want the same thing for myself as a snake. Ah well, everything is madness anyway, is it not? Of course it is! At least from my end of things.

More drops of salt water fall onto my face, and I can't help but wonder if King Caspian is truly crying over me. It would seem he is, but it's so strange he would. But it strikes a chord with me, somehow, and I fight the sudden and inexplicable urge to wipe his tears away. I don't like seeing anyone cry I suppose. Especially not one who's been so kind to me, no matter how ridiculous said kindness may be.

**Nikki POV:**

I continue screaming, shouting, yelling at Laurah, not even knowing what's coming out of my mouth now. I know she's crazy and all, but to just try to kill herself like that? I definitely didn't see that coming. **At all.**

So since I have no idea what to do, I just keep on screaming at her, asking relentlessly what in god's name she was thinking. But then, she wasn't was she? She's more insane than I realize. I should've realized that before, should've realized that she'd try that. I saw it in her eyes, didn't I? And I thought one little command would be enough to stop her. Boy was I wrong. I've never been so wrong before, and now I'm just scared that she'll try it again. I didn't come to Narnia to lose my best friend, I came to goof off with her and tease her about her fiancée and see them get freaking married! And now she's just a girl in pieces. And I'm n good at piecing things together it seems.

Why couldn't she just have eaten too much chocolate with me, and the two of us be utterly sick to our stomachs? That's so much easier to handle than this!

Caspian's falling apart, I can see it. I don't blame him – I might be too. This is my best friend in the whole dang universe, and his gosh darn fiancée! Between the two of us, we have every right to be a little shook up, in my humble opinion. Okay, maybe not so humble, but the point stands!

I need to fix this, I need to fix her mind. She's not even Laurah anymore, really! Laurah would never kill herself, ever ever ever! Shoot, she had a nightmare about her mom doing just that for crying out loud! Any now she wants to do the same?

It takes all my will to remind myself that Laurah's not all there in the head anymore, and one glance at Caspian convinces me that I'm just being a big baby. He's suffering worse than I am probably, and here I am freaking out enough for the whole frackin' crew. Good job Nikki, now everyone thinks you're half-psycho too. Which in one sense of the word that's true, but not in the serious sense.

"Alright, let's just take a deep breath. All three of us. Caspian, you chica, and me. Now, breathe in…and breathe out." Caspian does as I say, probably because he doesn't have anything left to argue with me. Poor guy…I seem to feel more sorry for him by the minute.

Does this new Laurah even love him at all? I can't help but think not – after all, she doesn't even remember him. She's still trying to bash her brains out on the deck, and Caspian is still holding her up by an arm under her shoulders. She's glaring daggers at him, but I can see he's determined. No matter how good of a fight she puts up, he won't let her hurt herself on his watch. Quite frankly, I won't either.

All of a sudden, just like that, all the fight goes out of Laurah, and she's just a frightened and confused little girl again. Big, owl eyes, blank face, everything sad and nothing suicidal. More depressed than anything else.

Caspian pulls himself to his feet, and brings her up with him, cradling her skeleton of a body in his arms bridal-style. How ironic – she was supposed to be his bride. And I could cry like a baby just at that thought alone, so I shake my head to clear it and follow Caspian to below deck.

It's dark down here, and there are leaks from where the serpent must have bashed itself against the ship or something of the like. Gently, carefully, he lowers her to the ground, using a sack of rice as a pillow for her head. I guess he figures she can't do herself harm in here.

A silent glance is all he needs for me to know he wants me to stay with her, keep her out of trouble. More accurately, from suicide. I nod one of those 'of course' kind of nods and go to stand next to her, sinking to my knees.

He nods his thanks silently and goes back on deck. I guess he's just about at the breaking point. I would be too, if I were him. Laurah clearly met her own breaking point a long time ago. She's curled up into a tight little ball now, like she's scared of even me, or even the air itself. I'm hoping she won't start a screaming fit again, because I have no idea how to comfort her in the midst of that.

I wish there was more I could do, but I just have no experience with hurt this deep. Just then, another idea comes to me. What if I can find out what the mist showed her? Could I reverse what it did to her there? Maybe, just maybe, I could. It's worth a shot anyway. Now the only question is how to get that info out of her. Because I have a distinct feeling that any form of asking her would only perpetuate the problem.

"Laurah? I'm sorry I screamed at you just now. You just gave me a real good scare, worse than ever before. I really care about you chica, and I don't want you dead. Especially not by your own doing. That's just messed up, that that damn mist screwed with your head so much you'd want to. You were always the strong one, remember? You saved your mom, you did so much for her! She almost killed herself, and you stopped her from doing that. So I hope you're not angry, because that's all Caspian did for you. Except I think he loves you even more than you loved your mom, maybe. Honestly, not to get all maple-syrup sappy, but I have never seen love like that. So don't waste it chica. I know you do deserve it, even if you don't think you do. Please, please don't push him away. He only wants to help, and please just let him. Let us help you. I know we can. We care about you so darn much, and we'll go to the end of the world and back, to hell to heaven and back, if that's what it takes to get you back. You have my word on that." At the end of my little tear-filled speech, Laurah uncurls from her little ball and blinks up at me.

And as she starts to wipe away my tears, I think it's the most human thing she's done since getting on board. And naturally, because I'm just a crybaby like that, I have to start bawling then. And don't ask why, because I don't even know. Maybe this is proof that the Laurah I know and Caspian loves is still there somewhere. She's buried down deep, but she's there. I know it, I know it, and I vow to never give up on her.

I almost did, just now, when she tried to end her own life. But never again. I know my best friend is there, and I won't ever stop fighting for her. She deserves at least that much from me. And I confess I'm also doing it for Caspian. He deserves his happily ever after with this girl he loves so much. Loves more than his own life according to what I see. No, I don't even need to question it that much. He loves here more than anything in any of the worlds, except maybe Aslan because he's kind of the god-figure here.

Oh what am I even thinking? I guess all I know how to think is nonsense, because I'm just a goofy girl like that. And up until now, that worked. But I guess it's time to cut the humor now. Or would that actually help Laurah, being around the humor that comes to naturally to me and used to to her? Would that reminder of how things used to be help or harm?

"Laurah? Do you remember how we used to be? All goofy and silly and whatnot?"

I'm encouraged when she nods her head.

Well, would my ridiculousness help you at all? I do hope it maybe would."

She nods again, blinking up at me again. Why is she always so silent? Right then, I decide to make her laugh.

"Hey, remember when we first got our licenses? And we hotwired my brother's car? Well, I was thinking we should hotwire this ship. Because it's really a not unlike a convertible, and convertibles, especially sports cars, are just pure awesome."

A smile blooms on her face, and a half laugh escapes. Not quite my goal, but halfway there.

"And then while we're at it, let's start that mashed potato war we always wanted to, shall we? It looks like these men with facial hair want some 'taters to save for later, don't you think?"

That does it. She laughs, a rough and scratchy sound, but a laugh nonetheless. And I laugh too, even with tears of relief streaming down my face.

"Hey, that's the first time I've even laughed and cried at the same time," I hiccup, throwing my arms around her in as tight a hug as I can without hurting her. I'm a little surprised at first, because she actually hugs me back. Well, as well as she can anyway. But still, that tightening of her arms is all I need right now.

And by now I think I'll forever be deemed the biggest blubber-baby ever born, but I can't really care because I'm just too darn happy. I guess that's a hidden blessing in this – Laurah being like this makes me appreciate all the little things, when I otherwise didn't. Shoot, I even took a hug for granted. But I can't anymore, and that's not a bad thing. Not at all.

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><p><strong>Aaand that's another chapter! Gosh, it feels so good to have the next chapter done already...huge relief!<br>**

**Haha anyway, the poll is still up if you're interested, though I think I might just know what to do with Nikki and Sadrian now...still, I haven't set it in stone as of yet, so there's still room to change my mind. :P  
><strong>

**Any feedback is awesome!  
><strong>


	17. Chapter 16

**Hello again! I think I'm officially ahead as far as chapters finished, so updates will be regular til the end of this story! Good news, right? xD Anyways, as far as the question business: so far, NymphadoraLupin98, newgirl5, and WriteToEscapeReality1309 all earned a question, so you three can message me as soon as you like ;)**

**WriteToEscapeReality1309 - Aw, I'm sure you will. Good friends will come along ;)**

**Garideth - Haha a branch? Well, that's better than a tree xD  
>I'm sorry it's so sad, but once things get awfully awful, the only way to go is up, right? :P<br>I know, he does...don't worry, I won't make him suffer for the whole rest of the book ;]**

**Gentle Blossom - Haha I hope it didn't move too fast :)  
>That they will, won't they? Well at least there's sort of a plan xD<br>But I'll start adding more of MopMan if my muse cooperates...I shall try to remember the dear boy :P  
><strong>

**Evy201 - Hm, that would be an accurate summary. :)  
>But all is not yet lost! Yet...haha I kid, mostly :P<strong>

**Disclaimer - (haven't we had enough of these?) Don't own Narnia, just the plot and my OCs.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

Caspian walks slowly back on deck, head spinning endlessly and dizzyingly. He doesn't even know that happened – one minute he saw Laurah falling off the deck and into the water, and the next he was diving into the sea water to save her. She fought him so hard, and it was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do to keep her alive. Not because he wanted her dead, but because she was trying so hard to die, leave this life. He didn't see that coming, that will and desperation for death.

But one glance around shows him this isn't the time to be brooding and pondering all this mess. The crew is happy and relieved and so are the Narnians being helped on board. There would be a time for mourning, but that time is not now. And he hates how cold that sounds, but Caspian is a king. A king puts others before himself. Laurah was as safe as he could make her right now, and for now that would have to do.

So Caspian forces a smile on his face and returns to Lucy and Edmund at the edge of the deck, looking out at what used to be Dark Island. The precise second they hear him coming, they turn and rush at him with worried faces. But he merely lifts a hand to stop the sure stream of questions that would be coming, and they must read in his face that things are as alright as they can be because they don't ask anything.

Caspian leads the way back to the side of the deck, and the three of them peer out into the white mist that's clearing even as they look on. There in the distance lies some white blanket over the water, looking mysterious and definitely like it's close to the end of the world.

"Aslan's Country," murmurs Caspian, trying to banish the sad undertone of his voice. He couldn't help but wish for a moment that Laurah could come and appreciate this sight with him. The real Laurah. "We must be close."

"Well, we've come this far," Edmund trails off, glancing from the white expanse to Caspian, and back again.

"Maybe time would be good, to gather your thoughts," Lucy adds quietly.

Caspian thinks for a moment, wondering if he should, could, leave Laurah here for any amount of time. But then again, Nikki's here to look after her, to keep her out of trouble. Keep her from harming herself. So he nods his consent, calling for a longboat to be readied. Most of them were smashed by the serpent, but a few still remain intact. Intact enough to be useful anyway.

Eustace is helped on board in the meantime, and he agrees to join Caspian, Lucy, and Edmund. Reepicheep, naturally, insists on accompanying the party as well. Caspian envies the mouse's untainted joy and excitement for a moment before shaking himself to his senses. No king should think that way, or even feel that way.

Before too much longer, the boat is readied and the five climb in, with some of the crew members lowering it into the water. Caspian and Edmund silently agree to man the oars, and the longboat pulls steadily away from the _Dawn Treader_ toward the white expanse.

As they approach it, a sweet, flowery kind of smell wafts up around them, and a closer look shows that the white ahead is an endless stretch of flowers – hundreds, thousands, millions of white lilies. The sheer beauty of it catches them all by surprise, and a collective gasp of wonder rises from the little boat. Caspian and Edmund have to stop rowing just so they can appreciate the sight as they drift closer and closer, until the boat is among the sweet-smelling flowers.

At first, the two kings can't row for fear of hitting the flowers and harming the beautiful things, but the boat drifts along too slowly. So carefully, oh so carefully, they dip their oars into the water, missing the flowers as much as they can, and gently scooping them out of the way when they can't. In this way, not a single petal is harmed.

Caspian again can't help but think of Laurah, of how much she'd love this place. The old Laurah, the real Laurah, would dip the tips of her delicate fingers into the water, scoop up a lily and wonder at it for a good while. Then she'd gently place it back in the water, smiling like an angel and practically glowing with joy and peace. As a sprite, she naturally loved all things that reminded her of the woods, and plants were dear to her. Flowers especially.

A sudden memory comes to him right then and there. Back during the Telmarine War, when the Narnians used Aslan's How as their base, Laurah had a little ledge she loved to sit at and either be alone or simply think. One such time she sat there alone, he had come up behind her, not intending to startle her but ending up doing so just the same. But just before he'd scared her so bad she let loose a choice word, she'd sat there silently, knees drawn up to her chest and one hand resting on the sparse grass. Under her hand grew one of her little white flowers, a thing so much like her it had stunned him out of words for a moment. She and her flowers were both so delicate, so beautiful in such a simple kind of way, so…well, perfect. To his eyes, at least.

Even now, he could see Laurah as that same girl she was. Maybe there was a chance she could be that girl again. Or was she too scarred to ever go back? After seeing how shattered she was just in the hour she'd been on board, Caspian couldn't help but fear the worst. Hope was tugging at his heartstrings, but pain forced him to see reality. She would likely never come back. Not ever. Or if she could, somehow, someway, it would take nothing less than a miracle.

But this isn't the time for thinking like this, is it? On the way to Aslan's Country? No, Caspian decides. These thoughts can be saved for another time.

So he turns to Eustace and asks, "So what was it like, when Aslan changed you back?"

The sandy-haired boy, who's been silent for the entire boat ride thus far, looks up and answers quietly with a slight smile, "Well, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't do it myself. Then he came towards me. It sort of hurt, but it was a good pain. You know, like when you pull a thorn from your foot."

At Eustace's pause, Caspian's thoughts briefly flit to Laurah, wondering if the pain she went through was supposed to be good in some way. And maybe, there was still some good that could come from it. Hopefully. But the Telmarine king pulls himself from these thoughts as Eustace continues.

"Being a dragon wasn't all bad. I think I was a better dragon than I was a boy, really. I'm so sorry for being such a sod."

Edmund grins at his cousin, responding, "It's okay, Eustace. You **were **a pretty good dragon."

And everyone in the boat has to smile and laugh a little at that, because it's true and it's funny in a way.

The rest of the ride is spent in relative silence, until Lucy speaks up quietly.

"Caspian, do you have any idea what happened to Laurah?"

Mutely, he shakes his head. The words can't seem to force themselves past his throat, and he feels a lump rising too. But he won't cry, he's decided that already. Not that there was any shame in crying, but he didn't want to. It didn't help matters at all.

"I'm sorry, Caspian," offers Eustace, eyes betraying the sympathy he feels for his friend.

"So am I, Eustace. But it's alright, really."

"Caspian, you don't have to pretend you're fine if you aren't," answers Edmund, looking pointedly, yet gently, at the king.

Caspian bows his head slightly at the comment, silently admitting how much it hurt to see his fiancée, if she was still his betrothed that is, in such pain. Worse, that she had no idea who he was.

"You know, it's possible that she didn't have a choice but to forget you," Lucy murmurs quietly, leaning forward to catch Caspain's gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the mist can torture, yes? She may have been forced to forget."

"I know she didn't choose to forget me, Lucy." Caspian's answers comes out a little sharper than he intended it too, so he offers a quick apology. "I'm sorry Lucy, I didn't mean to sound-"

"No, I know what you meant Caspian. It's alright. But what I'm trying to say it that maybe the memories aren't even still there. Is it possible that Dark Island quite literally stole the memories from her? Rather than them just being buried away in some maze of hurt?"

Somehow, that suggestion hurts less than the alternative that the memories are still there but inaccessible. It makes the situation a bit more hopeless, but at least there's no false hope either. If the memories simply aren't there...well, then at least he's spared the pain of knowing they still remain when Laurah can't recall them.

So Caspian finds the strength to raise his head and smile at the young girl across the boat from him.

"Your Majesty, all is not as lost as it seems, I can promise you that." Reepicheep adds, laying a little mouse-paw on his king's shoulder.

"Thank you, Reep."

More silence ensues, with the only sound being the barely-audible dipping of the oars in and out of the water, avoiding the lilies. That is, until Reepicheep speaks up again.

"My friends, we have arrived," announces the Noble Mouse.

Caspian and Edmund stop rowing to behold the sight behind them. And what a sight it is! A great wave ,unending and massive and forever curled over as if it's just about to break on the shore below, looming over the beach a little ways off.

They no longer need to row the boat, because it can drift the rest of the way to the shore. Besides, the water is now too shallow for oars. And before even a minute has passed, the longboat bottom scrapes against the sandy beach. The five jump out, boots making small splashes in the waves, pulling the boat out of the water enough that it won't drift away. Caspian vaguely notices that the lilies no longer cover the surface of the water, though their sweet scent lingers in the air.

A sea breeze blows Caspian's hair across his eyes, and he brushes it away in a half-daze. Everyone is wondering what lies beyond the wave, if Aslan's Country is as close as they believe. The five all walk toward it in a line, though it wasn't planned that way at all, their footsteps leaving shallow little prints in the sand. Closer they draw, when Eustace looks to the side, squinting against the sun.

"Aslan."

Caspian turns to the left, spinning in a slow circle until he too sees the Great Lion padding up to them on the beach.

"Welcome, children. You have done well, very well indeed." Aslan's deep, majestic voice echoes through the air and in all their bones in the most pleasant sort of way. "You have come far. Now your journey is at its end."

"Is this your country?" Lucy asks.

"No. My country lies beyond," answers the Lion, his massive maned head turning to look at the great wave still curling over.

Caspian asks his question without thinking, the other person he misses so dearly and who the mist used to play with his mind at Dark Island coming to the forefront of his thoughts.

"Is my father in your country?" he questions softly, the wind almost blowing his words away.

"You can only find that out for yourself, my son," replies Aslan gently. "But you should know that if you continue, there is no return."

Caspian lets the Lion's words sink in for a moment before walking forward toward His Country. His father could be there this very moment, waiting for him. If he goes, he can finally see his father again, can finally know what he truly thinks of his son.

So he continues walking forward steadily, stopping only when he's inches from the wave. Slowly, he lifts his hand and feels the water rushing over it. And he realizes he can't go. More accurately, he doesn't want to. There's someone here who still needs him. and there's a whole kingdom who needs him to be their king.

Caspian's vision blurs, and his hand drops. Slowly, but without hesitation, he turns, eyes watering as tears fill them.

"You're not going." Edmund knows why, it seems.

"I can't imagine my father would be very proud that I gave up what he died for. I've spent too long wanting what was taken from me and not what was given. I was given a kingdom – a people. A second chance at true love." Caspian finds that a lump is rising in his throat as he addresses Aslan, his voice almost cracking as he does. "I promise to be a better king." There's more he wishes he could add, but he just can't find the words.

"You already are." Aslan's gaze sees into the young man, and Caspian knows the Great Lion understands all he couldn't say as well as everything he could. And he bows his head as two tears fall from his eyes. And there's no shame in that.

Aslan turns to Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace next.

"Children."

Lucy turns, smiling, to Aslan, but Edmund's voice stops her short.

"I think perhaps it's time we went home actually, Lu."

Lucy turns around to look at her brother, puzzled and sad.

"But I thought you loved it here," she says, voice heavy.

"I-I do, but I love home and our family as well," he responds. As his little sister starts to turn away, he adds softly, "They need us."

And at that, Lucy really has no choice but to bow her head in sad acceptance.

But thankfully, this sad scene is interrupted as Reepicheep tentatively clears his throat.

"Your Eminence," he begins, bowing low at the waist. "Ever since I can remember I have dreamt of seeing your country. I've had many great adventures in this world, but nothing has dampened that yearning. I know I am hardly worthy, but, with your permission, I would lay down my sword for the joy of seeing Your Country with my own eyes." The mouse's little speech brings tears to everyone's eyes and evokes a quite fond response from the Great Lion.

"My Country was made for noble hearts such as yours, no matter how small their bearers be."

"Your Majesty." Reep bows again in gratitude for Aslan's words.

"No one could be more deserving," Caspian adds, a keen affection for the mouse bringing a smile to his face.

"Well, I-" begins Reep, only to be gently interrupted by Edmund.

"It's true." The Just King bows to the mouse, who returns the gesture with a flourish.

Lucy, however, approaches Reepicheep with tears in her eyes and a stuffy nose.

"May I?" she asks with a half-sniffle, kneeling down before the mouse, who hesitates before conceding.

"Well…I suppose, just this- oh!" Reep is cut off as the teary-eyed girl takes the fuzzy creature into her arms and wraps him in a cuddly sort of hug. After a moment of surprised laughter, the mouse returns the fond embrace. "Goodbye Lucy."

After a moment more of holding the dear mouse, Lucy sets him down and backs away to stand beside her brother, eyes still red-rimmed and nose still stuffy from the effects of unshed tears. As she does so, Eustace comes up to kneel on one knee and can't seem to hold back his tears as well as his cousin could.

"Don't cry," Reepicheep tells his friend, trying to console him.

"I don't understand," the boy manages through his tears, "W-will I not see you again? Ever?"

"What a magnificent puzzle you are, and a true hero," answers the mouse fondly. "It has been my honor to fight beside such a brave warrior, and a great friend." With that, Reep bows one last time and scampers toward the great wave, stopping when he gets to the miniature rowboat he brought along with him.

"I won't be needing this," he comments, taking his sword from its scabbard and leaving it sticking up in the sand before jumping into his little boat.

Caspian backs up until he's once again standing beside Ed, Lu, and Eustace. The four humans stand in silence, watching the little rowboat climb the wave, higher and higher, until it finally disappears over the top. The only sound is the barely-audible sniff of sadness that comes from Eustace, who bows his head as soon as Reep is out of sight.

Aslan then turns to the Pevensies, more specifically to a crying Lucy.

"This is our last time here isn't it?" she asks, already knowing the answer and unable to meet the Great Lion's eyes in spite of her brother's comforting hand on her back.

"Yes. You have grown up, my dear one. Just like Peter and Susan." The Lion's answer is as gentle as the truth can be.

"Will you visit us in our world?" she sniffles, tears running down her face as she rests a hand against the side of Aslan's face.

He smiles a warm, lion smile and replies, "I shall be watching you always."

But Lucy still needs a little more reassurance. "How?"

"In your world, I have another name. You must learn to know me by it. That was the very reason you were brought to Narnia – that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there," Aslan replies, his wise golden eyes peering into Lucy's teary brown ones.

"Will we meet again?" she presses on.

"Hmm. Yes, dear one - one day," Aslan replies, fondness seeping into his voice and eyes.

A moment more of silence passes between the two, and then Aslan lets loose a mighty roar into the wave, tunneling a path home with it. It's time.

The Pevensies and Eustace, gather around Caspian. No one has to say how hard the goodbye is. Caspian feels his eyes watering yet again as he looks as the three - yes, three – children who are the only family he has. And he wants them to know that before they leave forever.

"You're the closest thing I have to family," he says softly, not bothering to try and disguise the sadness in his voice. He remembers the blonde boy to his right. "And that includes you, Eustace," he adds, clapping the boy lightly on the back of the neck.

Eustace can't help but grin as he answers in a simple "Thank you."

Caspian continues with the goodbyes, first embracing Edmund, and then Lucy, who leaves a wet spot on the top of his shoulder from her tears.

Last, before they turn to leave Narnia forever, Edmund and Lucy say goodbye to Aslan. Edmund, with a bow and a silent exchange, and Lucy with a tearful hug and a kiss on the Lion's furry cheek. The final goodbyes said, Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace start toward the tunnel in the water, and toward home. Eustace lags behind the other two for a little bit, and turns to Aslan.

He hesitates for a moment, as if unsure if this is respectful, before quietly asking, "Will I come back?"

"Narnia may yet have need of you," replies the Lion, smiling slightly at the boy's question, pleased by his love for Narnia.

Eustace bows in deference before turning to follow his cousins out of Narnia, his feet dragging ever so slightly in the sand.

Caspian stands beside Aslan, looking on – sad he'll never see Ed or Lu again, but happy for all the good times together. This parting isn't all bitter - it's simply bittersweet, as most partings of this sort are.

Ed, Lu, and Eustace stop once more to look back at Aslan and Caspian as they stand on the threshold between worlds, just inside the tunnel opening. For a moment, all is still as they stand there, looking back at Narnia – Ed and Lu for the last time. Then that moment ends, and Aslan allows the water to flow over the tunnel opening, framing him and Caspian for a moment before it closes entirely. Now only Caspian and Aslan remain on the beach at the end of the world.

"Something more troubles you, my son." The Great Lion's big gold eyes stare straight at the king, seeing everything.

Caspian nods slowly, eyes shifting from the wave to the sand beneath his feet. But at the same time heaviness floods his heart at the condition of his perhaps-former fiancée, hope begins to bloom as well. Surely Aslan could help her, or at least tell him how.

"Do you recall the magician Coriakin?" At Caspian's nod, the Lion continues, "He can help your betrothed – he is familiar with the mist that still haunts her mind."

At this, Caspian furrows his brow in confusion and meets the Lion's gaze with puzzlement in his own.

"Still haunts her mind?" he repeats slowly, not understanding.

"Dark Island was destroyed, my son, but the source behind it was not."

That would explain why Laurah was only marginally better after the Island's destruction.

"What is behind this evil?" questions the king, wanting nothing more than to rid Narnia, and Laurah, of it.

"The question is not what; the question is who," Aslan answers, his gaze shifting to look straight ahead.

"How is it possible for any one person to have such power?"

"An old friend of the White Witch. I do not yet know his or her identity."

Caspian takes a moment to consider this new information, let it sink in. Here he thought that the end of Dark Island was the end of the trouble in Narnia. How wrong he was, how very wrong indeed. Hopefully, he would find and stop this friend of the Witch before any more catastrophic damage was done, to individuals or to Narnia as a whole.

"Have faith, my son. All evil can be conquered."

"But can the damage be undone?" Caspian whispers heavily, staring straight ahead in a way similar to the Great Lion's.

"Damage may never be undone, but it may be healed or mended over time. She will need you, Caspian."

The king nods, accepting this task he really should have embraced the moment he saw her in Dark Island. But the important thing was that he's accepted it now.

Taking a deep breath, Caspian turns to the Great Lion, both grateful and overwhelmed. Aslan gave him hope and valuable information, but the challenge of ending the mist's source almost seems more difficult than restoring – no, healing – Laurah. However, both challenges were possible, and he would give both everything he had, and more. For Narnia, for Aslan, and for Laurah.

"Thank you, Aslan," Caspian says with a bow.

The Lion returns the respectful gesture with a nod of his massive, gold-furred head. Neither of them say goodbye, because with Aslan there are never any true goodbyes. And that is a very good thing, a very good thing indeed.

After a moment more in comfortable silence, Caspian turns to go back to the longboat, and then to the _Dawn Treader_. And then, back to Laurah. His boots make soft little brushing-like sounds as they step across the sand, a sound that changes to the much louder splash of shoes in water. Never looking back, the king pushes off from the beach and climbs into the boat, rowing with just as much care this time through the lilies as before.

In many ways, this ride back to the ship is similar to the ride away from it, excluding its solitary nature. The same flowery scent, the same slight roughness of the wooden oars, the same quiet lapping of water against the bow of the longboat all contribute to the general atmosphere and feel of the short trip – peace. This place makes it impossible to feel anything but peace, but it doesn't structure the tranquility of spirit. There are two kinds of peace: the peace of only acceptance and the peace of hope. This time, Caspian experienced the latter.

Yes, he knows now there is still hope. The king can't suppress a brief twinge at the thought of how long and hard the path to healing will be, but at least there is one to tread. And suddenly, Caspian can't wait to get back to the ship, and, more importantly, to Laurah. Hopefully, she'll be at least a little better than before. Maybe even well enough to allow back on deck, though he'd still ask Nikki to keep a watchful eye on her when he couldn't.

Once the peaceful ride back to the _Dawn Treader_ is over, Caspian climbs back on board to see a very confused crew. No wonder – 5 set out on the boat, and only Caspian returned. He owes them an explanation as to what happened to the others. So he clears his throat and speaks, sadness creeping into his voice as he does.

"King Edmund, Queen Lucy, and Eustace returned to their world, according to Aslan's bidding. Reepicheep chose to go on to Aslan's Country, and left instructions for Peepiceep to lead the mice in his absence."

"Will Their Majesties return, Your Highness?" asks a crewman, Sadrian more accurately.

Caspian knew this question would likely be coming, but it didn't make it any easier to answer. Swallowing heavily, the king forces out, "No, King Edmund and Queen Lucy are never to return to Narnia. However, it is possible their cousin Eustace shall."

He missed them all already – his family even if not by blood. His people would as well, until the end of time. Even in just this small gathering of Narnians, faces fell and silent tears slipped down cheeks. Already, they were sorely missed, as well they should be.

It occurs to him that Laurah never got to say goodbye, or even really realize they were here in the first place. Caspian remembers the hope Aslan gave him, and excuses himself as politely as he can to go below deck to see her.

* * *

><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

By the sudden quiet that's taken over the formerly noisy deck, I'm guessing Caspian and everyone are back from scoping out the end of the world. Which, surprisingly, didn't take too horribly long. Shoot, I only got through about 5 stories of me and Laurah's silliness back home. She's smiled, even laughed, at each and every one, and seems to actually remember them as well.

Footsteps echo on the ladder leading down here, which can only belong to either Caspian or Sadrian. Hey, I haven't seen much of MopMan lately, have I? I'll have to introduce him and Laurah soon – hearing these stories of our collective crazy have seemed to keep her out of bat-shit-crazy mode. A very good thing really, because I've heard bat shit smells nothing less than vomit-inducing yucky, and I mean that literally. Of course, I'd put my vote for best vomit-inducing toward this very ship when it's pulled by a dragon. But that's just my personal opinion. Hey, I have to tell Laurah about that too.

"Hey there, Cas, how was the end of the world? And have you seen MopMan – I mean, Sadrian – recently?" I chitter away, stopping when I see sadness on Caspian's face. Well, more than before. "Hey, what's the matter? Other than the obvious."

"Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace all returned to their home, and Reepicheep continued on to Aslan's Country."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, champ – really, I am." Well, his life kinda sucks right now. I mean, losing his fiancée and close-enough-to-be-family friends? Not a recipe for the best day ever, at least according to my book. And as we all know, my book is **the** book of all intelligent and completely relevant truths.

"It's alright. How is she?" He leans forward to brush a stray lock of hair from Laurah's eyes as I smile cheerfully.

"She's out of the bat-shit-crazy mode, as far as I can tell. The main thing is to keep her laughing, and all is hunky-dory in the world. Hey, remember my sudden trip to Vomit Lake City?"

Something like a laugh, guffaw, and snort all rolled into one comes out of that man, and I bust out laughing just at that sound alone. Even better, Laurah joins me. Albiet a little quieter, but the point is she's laughing too. And boy, the look that comes over Caspian's face is without price. First he looks thunderstruck, as if I'd just told him he was pregnant in all seriousness, then he looks happier than a little kid with a lollipop, in a slightly more grown-up way.

Then we're all laughing – Caspian because he's happy and probably relieved too, Laurah because that sound he made was somewhat hilarious, and me because of all of the above, plus I'm just in one of those kum-ba-ya kind of moods.

"This is sooooo ridiculous!" I cackle, holding my aching sides and slumping forward into someone's lap – Laurah's most likely, because it's a little bony.

And it is! Here we are, laughing like court jesters on steroids in the hold of the ship, after such a tumultuous and maybe stressful day. Then again, maybe it's just that our nerves are so far shot that laughing is the only thing that makes sense. It's a good thing I don't have my little energy drinks with me, because then we'd all get even more silly and more hyper. Oh wait, maybe I do! I refused to change out of my comfy pants, and I usually keep at least one in my pocket.

Still snorting with a serious disease called the giggles, I reach a hand into my pocket. After a moment of rooting around, **victory is mine!** I let out a combination screech-cackle and pull the divinity-in-a-bottle out for all to see.

"This, my wickedly funny friends, is the answer to the question of life – where is my happiness? Well, mis amigos, it lies here, in this little bottle. We shall pass this around, and we shall all drink and be merry little souls. Who's first?" I proclaim in my most regal of voices. I'm pleased when Laurah reaches forward first.

So I open the small bottle and pour about a third of it into her open mouth, then pour roughly the same amount into my own. I then promptly hand it to Caspian dearest.

"Finish it up, maestro! Bottoms up!"

After shooting me a slightly confused look, he obliges my demand-slash-request.

Suffice it to say, the three of us spend the next hour in the hold experimenting with all the many ways to laugh, snort, cackle, and hiccup that exist to man. And the only reason we settle down then is because the good Jack Sparrow – excuse me, the god captain – excuse me, the **good captain** – comes down to ask his Royal Highness Lord Caspian of the Chuckles what our heading is.

Caspian has to take a moment to compose himself, during which Captain Sparrow – wait, Captain Drinian, asks if we should return to Ramandu's Island first to rest for a day or two before starting the journey back home. His chortles mostly conquered by now, Caspian nods in affirmation of this definitely-good plan.

"Very good, Your Majesty. Will there be any stops along the voyage home?"

At this, Caspian sobers considerably, a spark of hope and determination taking the place of utter, senseless hilarity in his eyes.

"Coriakin's Island, Captain. Coriakin's Island."

* * *

><p><strong>I'll be taking the poll down tomorrow, so if you still have a lingering opinion, you've got 24 hours :P<strong>

**And I have the next chapter ready to upload, so I'll be posting it right on schedule ;) Though I might be persuaded to upload it sooner... :P**

**Reviews always welcome :)**


	18. Chapter 17

**How's a day early for everyone? ;) I just realized how long this story is already, but I'm only about...maybe 2/3, 3/4 of the way done. Hopefully that's okay XD**

**WriteToEscapeReality1309 - That's another question you can ask. :)  
>Aw, poor Caspian...I do actually feel bad for what I'm putting him through :P But it's all furthering the plot! XD<br>**

**Guest - Wish granted! ;)**

**Garideth - Haha you seem to cry quite a bit! That's nice for an author to hear though XD  
>Hahahaha yes, Coriakin :) And I did have to lighten the mood a bit, so I'm glad that went over well.<strong>

**Evy201 - But of course! Can't have the voyage back being simple! XD  
>Hm, you may get your wish ;) <strong>

**IsThatBloodInYourMustache - Awww, I'm sorry my dear! But thank you too! :P  
>Hopefully Coriakin's Island won't be more than 5 chapters or so away...<strong>

**Disclaimer - Narnia belongs to CS Lewis and the screenwriters and whoever else.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

"Why Coriakin's Island?" I ask Caspian as the good captain heads back up on deck. I too have managed to regain some semblance of control over my cackling and hooting, though Laurah still needs another moment to compose herself. Though personally, I wouldn't mind if she didn't calm down for next day. Well, I suppose the nonstop laughing might get a little annoying eventually, but still. As long as she doesn't get any ideas about putting cockroaches down my back, we're good.

"Aslan told me he can help her."

"The island is a he?" Well, that might be awkward to walk across in some points.

"No, the magician who takes care of the island is," he chuckles, still somewhat in the throes of energy-drink-induced hyperness. Though I have to say, the effects were a little less severe with his Royal High-Highnyness. Oh goodness, that sounded like His Royal **Hineyness**. Oopsie daisy.

"Whew, because otherwise that would be one awkward island to visit, ya know? I mean, one couldn't pull into a bay without worrying! Where would the ship be parked?"

"At WalMart," Laurah giggles, clutching her sides from so much laughing. It's almost creepy how much better she seems, how close to her old self.

"Hey, good idea chica! And that totally rhymed…Anyway, good idea! WalMart is where these energy thingys came from, so the crew can skipple-dee-do-dah-dae on over to Wallie-World and stuff the cargo hold with these babies while the three of us hoof it on over to old Cori-boy! It's brilliant!" I shout, waving my arms to illustrate my point. Seriously, that was inspired!

I stop abruptly when the back of my hand smacks against a shelf behind me, shrugging my shoulders and squeaking out a quick "Oopsie!" What I don't see coming is a crate of potatoes from the shelf I so rudely bitch-slapped. But I notice said potatoes plenty when they sail forward and pepper poor dear Caspian machine-gun-style. Forget Gangnam Style, these potatoes want REVENGE.

"Oh no, oh dear, oh gosh, I'm sorry sweetums! I didn't mean to indirectly give you a black eye, I truly did not!" I gush at the dazed and dizzied king, whose yelps of pain give way to a cross-eyed glare at yours truly.

His attempt to stand fails miserably, and Laurah and I let out simultaneous snorts as the good king falls straight onto his royal bum. The poor guy could be drunk by how tipsy he is. Those potatoes have quite the right hook on them I tell ya!

"So, who's for mashed potatoes for dinner tonight?" I chirp brightly, tossing one of the offending little brown things straight up.

I wince at the following crash, squeezing one eye closed in fear of what other mayhem I've started. Laurah almost chokes on her own peals of laughter, and I can only watch in half-horror, half-hopeless amusement as a frying pan drops from the ceiling of the hold. And, just as luck would have it, lands directly on good King Caspian's poor abused little noggin.

The ringing clunk echoes in the enclosed space, and I purse my lips as my apology freezes on my lips. Well, oops. Caspian sits utterly still as the frying pan falls to his lap, and then keels plum over, ramrod straight like in the movies.

Laurah and I regard the now knocked-out king in shocked silence.

"Oops," I squeak out yet again. I didn't mean to, honestly! Pure, total, innocent accident all that was! Hilarious and definitely a story to repeat many times, but accidental nonetheless, I swear!

At my one-word response to the distressing situation at hand, Laurah dissolves into a hopeless fit of snort-filled chortles of hysteria. Me? I'm still staring at the unconscious king slumped on the floor.

"Ohmigosh. I've killed the king!" I wail in a whisper-shout. "I'll be sentenced to death for sure! I've accidentally assassinated the monarch!"

I suddenly hear heavy boot-steps heading down the ladder and I instantly snatch up the frying pan and try to stuff it behind my back. They'll throw me overboard for sure!

A mop of curly, sandy-colored hair pokes into the room, regarding the situation with wide eyes.

"Why hello MopMan, how farest thou on this bonny day?" I ask shrilly, still attempting to conceal the incriminating frying pan.

"I fare just fine, but I think the real question is how the king fares," Sadrian answers, looking a mite worried for his sovereign. With good reason.

"Erm, he…he…" I fumble for words, thanking my lucky stars MopMan hasn't noticed the frying pan I've now tossed behind me, not caring where it went.

MopMan hurries over to the fallen Caspian, taking his pulse the moment he can reach the royal wrist. He doesn't look too worried though, so the dear king must still be alive.

Wait, he's alive! Praise be to Aslan! I'm not an assassin!

"Hey, chica, he's alive!" I hiss to Laurah, both of us dissolving into a relieved spasm of cackling.

MopMan must not understand, because he only shoots the pair of us a puzzled look before asking, "And what exactly happened to His Majesty?"

"He…oh well he…erm…" I cease mid-cackle as I attempt to think up some excuse for the monarch to be sprawled unconscious on the floor with potatoes scattered around. "He was really tired after the day's activities and has decided to take a royally-deserved nap."

MopMan raises a skeptical eyebrow, seeming to note the frying pan surely somewhere close behind me.

"He insisted that I instruct the first crewman to come down here of his wish to be moved from this unroyal location to his hammock where he can rest his most royal head. And he also said to tell anyone who doubted this that he would deal them the wrath of the frying pan once he awoke from his beauty – I mean, handsome – sleep," I manage in my most proclamatory of voices.

Still, MopMan looks a little unconvinced, but nonetheless follows Caspian's 'orders' when I clear my throat loudly.

"His Highness is pleased," I announce, helping MopMan heave poor probable-concussion-victim Caspian over his shoulder.

Laurah and I follow him up the ladder and to the deck, and I ready my proclamation speech again. Sure enough, we receive plenty of odd stares from the many Narnians on deck.

"For any of you who are wondering, His Royal Highness King Caspian X is not dead. He has merely decided he needs his royal naptime, and was far too exhausted to trudge the long way to his sleeping quarters. Henceforth, His Majesty required assistance reaching his desired destination and this is the scene you see before you. All who hamper said efforts at granting His Highness's wishes may or may not be subject to a celebratory clunking of the noggin by means of the royal frying pan. Thank you for your attention, and please return to whatever it is you were doing," I announce, hopefully deterring any suspicion away from this perhaps mildly suspicious scene/situation.

Laurah nudges me with her shoulder and we share a furtive smile, both of us struggling not to break out in hysterics right then and there. Truly, the situation is far too funny to maintain composure for much longer. My face is already starting to crack, personally.

MopMan does his job well, and thankfully we're below deck again before too much longer. His Highness, aka Caspian, is laid down on his hammock carefully by the good MopMan and I almost sag to the ground in relief. Maybe I'll yet escape my sure fate of being thrown overboard for knocking out the king. But wait…what about when he wakes up?!

"Excuse me all, but I must go empty my stomach now. Vomit Lake City awaits my noble presence."

With this somewhat odd excuse, I stumble back on deck and over to the rail, ignoring the few questioning stares and hurrying through the crowd at politely as I can. I think I accidently trod on someone's toes, but I don't have time to offer a truly royalty-worthy apology because my poor taxed nerves are about to spill the contents of my stomach in approximately two milliseconds.

"S'cuse me peoples, one formerly-delicious dinner coming up the hatch!" I screech, making a beeline for the rail.

Luckily for them, everyone clears a path. Very luckily, because my dinner puts a new coat of paint on the side of the ship. Well, most of said dinner misses and lands in the water, but still. Not exactly a DaVinci-worthy picture.

A cold sheen of sweat breaks out on my forehead as I scurry back below deck, returning to a perplexed Laurah and a very suspicious MopMan. I am actually a bit nervous. Accidental or not, I probably put a lump the size of a grapefruit on the king's royal noggin!

On a sidenote, Laurah seems to have finally conquered the giggles. Immediately, I take a dislike to the hollowness her eyes hold. It's like if she's not laughing, she's instantly back to depressed. Well, at least there haven't been any screaming fits. And I promised I wouldn't give up on her.

"Hey, chica? You doing okay there?"

She nods slowly, almost robotically. I instantly wish for more of those energy drinks. Unfortunately, I only had one. MopMan looks a little worried too, but I can only shrug at his silent question if he can help. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I can do to help. Yeah, I know making her laugh is great, but I'm running out of stories real fast.

"You know, you look a little beat. It's starting to get dark out, so why don't you get some rest?" I suggest, wrapping an arm around her. Hm, actually…

"Wait, scratch that. We need to get some food in you. MopMan – wait, sorry, Sadrian – any ideas as to what's best?"

"Start her out slow, otherwise she's not likely to keep it down. Simple things such as bread are best," he says, also silently offering to carry her if need be.

I nod gratefully and tell Laurah it's okay and not to worry as he lifts her.

"She weighs practically nothing, Miss Nikki," he comments, looking to be in awe she's even alive.

"I know. Here, let's just get her to a bed and then could you bring her up some bread or something? I've got to stay with her, keep an eye on her, ya know?"

"Of course. I am certain His Majesty would want her in the cabin, so-"

"Awesome, great idea. I guess I'll be staying with here in there, so let's go," I chirp, still trying to maintain my usual cheeriness. After all, Laurah does do much better when everyone else around is happy and cheery and whatnot.

MopMan and I make our way on deck and into the cabin, and this trip doesn't attract nearly as many stares as the previous did. Well, considering it doesn't look like we killed a king this time, it's completely understandable.

"Careful, she's kind of fragile," I caution, hovering like a mother hen as MopMan slowly lowers Laurah onto the bed.

Luckily for him, he's painstakingly careful, so I'm spared the aggravation of having to slap him. Hey, a girl's gotta be protective of her best friend, right?

"Thankees, Mop- sorry, Sadrian."

"Do I truly look like a mop to you, Miss Nikki?" he sighs, seeming to be split between amused and exasperated.

"Well, it's just a saying back home. If someone has lots of hair and lots of curls, we just say they've got a mop of curls. And since I have a fondness for silly nicknames, it seemed a bit apropos."

"Alright then, you may simply call me MopMan, if it would be easier for you."

"Why the sudden willingness?" I ask, scrunching up my brow in slight confusion.

MopMan just shrugs and heads out then, leaving me wondering as to what exactly he's been drinking. Hopefully nothing too strong – puking is my job on this ship.

"Who…?"

I'm drawn from my musings of what different kinds of rum MopMan might have consumed at Laurah's croaked question.

"Huh? Oh! Oh that's Sadrian. I call him MopMan, for reasons you just heard me explain, but you can call him whichever suits you, I guess."

She nods, in that same way she's been nodding since she got on board.

"Hey, it's okay to show some emotion, mix up the body language a bit, ya know," I say, propping up her back with pillows. It's easier to eat if one is sitting up.

She shrugs, still not really showing much life. I need to make her laugh again.

"Chica, you need to laugh. Okay, what else can I think of…oh! Oh I've got it. Okay, remember that one time when you and I decided to try those facial masques? You had the acai berry and I claimed the cucumber?"

She nods, and I continue.

"And we mixed the two together and decided to use it on my older brother?"

A smile cracks Laurah's too-serious face.

"Well, we did smear the goo all over his face while he was sleeping. And to top it off, literally, we had an arsenal of whipped cream and CoolWhip. Somewhat unfortunately for us, he woke up just as we started on the whipped cream. And let me tell you, I thought he was going to kill us right then and there. We must have woken half the neighborhood screaming and running around the house like maniacs. I think he was threatening to have our heads, and then you did the bravest thing I've ever seen. You reached into the fridge, grabbed the lemon meringue pie we'd made earlier in the evening, and threw that puppy smack into his face."

Her face is practically painted in disbelief, but she looks about ready to giggle tentatively.

"Yep, you sure did. And I busted out in a chorus of yodeling to celebrate said bravery. Like this: 'Yodel-addle-eedle-idle-oooooooooo!'" I finish with a resounding yodel that echoes in the somewhat-small cabin, and Laurah's croaking laugh joins in, very softly. But I couldn't be happier, and so I join in too. She's really alright, when I can make her laugh.

This scene is what MopMan walks in to, and he has to smile at the sight.

"Hey, you brought el bread-o. Thankees my good sir, and I shall see you tomorrow?"

"Yes indeed, Miss Nikki. Good luck," he replies, bowing and grinning like a fool as he tosses me the loaf.

"Just Nikki, remember?" I chirp back, smiling just as silly-like.

He only chuckles and ducks out the door, leaving me to roll my eyes.

"Here chica, see if you can get this down," I say, breaking off a piece of the bread and placing it into her hand.

She sobers and stares at it like she has no idea what to do. Turning it over and over in her hands, she just looks from it to me and back again.

"It's food. You eat it. Here, like this." I demonstrate, tearing off a small piece and chewing it, and motioning for Laurah to do the same.

She looks dubious for a moment, but she does tentatively put a tiny piece in her mouth. From the look on her face, having something in her mouth to eat is so totally foreign that she's forgotten what to do.

"It's not hard chica, just close your teeth. Bread's nice and chewable."

Her eyes question whether this is really a good idea, but she obeys, slowly at first. Eventually, her eyes light up and she starts eating in earnest, and I can tell she's obviously starving. Well duh! Not your brightest observation Nikki.

"That's it, you got it! Eat it slowly though, we don't want you getting sick."

She finishes the first piece with obvious relish and silently asks for more, at which point I give her another not-too-big not-too-small piece. As I said, she can't eat too much too fast, otherwise her body is likely to reject the sudden influx of food. But with small pieces, she gets half the loaf down before she's done, and I give her sips of water in between pieces to keep her throat from getting too dry. Again, small bits at a time is key.

When she's done, I just wrap the remainder of the bread in a cloth I find laying around. She'll likely need more in the morning.

"Okay, now that you've eaten, are ya ready for bed, chica?"

Cocking her head to the side in confusion, she doesn't seem to understand this either. How odd…

"You know, sleep? I'll get ya up in the morning."

Slowly, she nods and lets me tuck her in, pulling up the covers around her chin. She has no padding on her, so she's bound to get cold really easily. All seems to be well, so I turn to go and curl up in the chair on the other side of the room. But her hand leaping out to grasp my wrist stops me.

The fear is as plain as day in her eyes, and it convinces me in a flash that she'll need company to sleep through the night.

"Here, want me to keep you company, chica? Until you fall asleep?"

She nods vehemently, and I sit down on the bed beside her, stroking her hair as I hum softly. I don't really know any lullabies, but the tune I do hum seems to be alright. Eventually, maybe after an hour or so, Laurah finally drifts off, her hand still tightly wrapped around my wrist.

I'm hesitant to leave her, just because I'd rather be very close by just in case. So I nestle down too, and soon sleep claims me as well.

* * *

><p>I'm suddenly and frighteningly awoken by screaming and thrashing next to me, and it registers that Laurah must be having a nightmare. I'm still half asleep, but I retain enough sense to try and shake her awake.<p>

The door flies open with a bang, and my bleary eyes look up to see Caspian racing in, looking the epitome of worry.

"What's the matter?" he whisper-shouts, already beside the bed and trying to shake Laurah awake with me.

"I think it's a nightmare. She was sleeping just fine until just now," I hiss back, frustrated that Laurah still hasn't woken up.

Her screams are intensifying, and I resist the urge to cover my ears with my shaking hands.

"Laurah, wake up! It's only a dream, Laurah, it's only a dream!" Caspian calls frantically, trying all the harder to rouse her.

But her screams are quickly morphing into something inhuman, the shrieks sending chills down my spine. I can't say I'm not at least a little afraid of her right now.

"Laurah, chica, wake up! It's not real, I promise!" I full-out shout into her ear as she convulses in fear.

Then, just as quickly as her screaming started, she bolts upright, still screaming even though her eyes are wide open. I'm beside her in a second, rubbing her back and crooning into her ear as Caspian grabs her by the shoulders and speaks urgently to her again and again that it was only a dream.

"Laurah, it was only a dream! Calm down, please!"

Finally, she does, her body going limp as her eyes widen even more. She would fall back onto the bed were it not for Caspian's hands on her shoulders and mine on her back. Tears begin to run down her cheeks, and Caspian is even quicker to react than I am.

"Shh, shh, it's alright, you're alright, shh," he whispers softly, opening his arms and releasing her shoulders.

I won't lie, I'm expecting her to shy away from him exactly as she has before. But maybe she's just so rattled she'll take the first offer for comfort that comes. So maybe that's why she lets herself fall forward right into Caspian's waiting arms.

I vaguely notice that he's taken his armor off and is only dressed in pants and his nightshirt, but I don't much care. The point is, he's helping Laurah calm down. So I bite my tongue to keep from making a comment to the effect of didn't he remember his overcoat.

Meanwhile, Laurah's cheek falls so it's resting on his chest, at which point he gently lifts her and sits down on the bed so he's cradling her. And the beautiful thing about all this is that she doesn't lift a finger to fight any of it. She just lays there, lets him soothe her with words and caresses and soft kisses to her hair.

I'm about to cry and besides, it feels like one of those moments that should be just between the two of them, so I quietly excuse myself and slip outside onto the deck.

* * *

><p><strong>Laurah POV:<strong>

The snake was here again. I can still vaguely feel its fangs sinking into me, anywhere and everywhere. Maybe that's why I don't fight him. Caspian.

I'm cradled in his arms, and I'm not putting up any kind of fight as he comforts me in any way he can. Maybe I'm too shocked to react, or maybe I'm just starved for human closeness other than Nikki's. Either way, it feels nice, really.

My body is still trembling as the snake rattles its tail in the deep recesses of my memory, but King Caspian just keeps on whispering sweet little things into my ear and smoothing my hair and rocking me back and forth. It's so tender that I just can't wish myself away.

I risk a peek up at his face through my eyelashes. His eyes are mostly closed, his lips pressed to my forehead. But from what I can see, he almost seems…happy. Content, even. Which, naturally, makes no sense to me. But what does make sense, really? It's no secret that I'm crazy.

"There's a chance for you, you know."

These words catch my attention, and I look up at the king a little more boldly as he shifts to peer right into my eyes. Silently, with my eyes, I ask what he means. He must understand my wordless communication, because he responds.

"That mist is still inside your head - traces of it, at least. But there's a magician, Coriakin, who can help you. I can't force you to let him, but I would hope you will. We're sailing to his island as soon as we leave Ramandu's Island. Please, consider letting him help, Laurah."

This is a lot to take in. I blink once, twice, thrice. The king seems to be holding his breath, afraid I'll refuse and start another fit of screams and shrieks. But maybe I can trust him. Nikki says I can, and I trust her. So maybe it's okay for me to trust the king too, even if only a little. So I nod, a simple bobbing of my head.

A smile spreads across his face, and the next kiss he presses to my temple has a little more force than the whisper-soft others he's bestowed on me since the snake went away.

"I promise, it will be for the best. I'll look after you," he murmurs, his breath warm on my brow.

Suddenly, I have an idea. Nikki seemed to think the band of gold with a green stone on my finger was important. Maybe he knows what it is. It's been bugging me ever since Nikki pointed it out.

Slowly, cautiously, I hold up my left hand, my eyes flitting from the…what is it Nikki called it? I don't think she said what it was actually. Whatever it is, my eyes go from it to the king's face, and back again.

His face looks pinched and sad for a moment, and I'm suddenly so afraid I've offended him. My body tenses again, the slightest of fearful tremors running through me. I start to try to weasel myself out of his arms, but he only pulls me closer.

"Please, you have nothing to fear from me," he whispers, his eyes suddenly shining with…tears? Or am I only seeing things, as I usually do?

But I just can't ignore how pleading his somewhat-ragged voice sounds, and on top of that I can't disobey a king. So I force myself to relax, let him hold me.

"This," he begins, his fingers brushing feather-soft against the thing on my finger, "is a ring. And…"

I tilt my head slightly, asking what else. I'm mildly curious now, and I would like to know what a ring is doing on my finger. Most especially why asking has such an effect on the king. It almost seems like this ring means something to him, though I know that has to be impossible.

But he only shakes his head and looks away from me, his eyes disappearing under their lids.

"I fear you are not quite ready to hear the truth yet."

I shake my head, trying to say that I want to know, but another shake of his head is the only response the king gives me.

"Please, I'm only trying to think of what's best for you. I don't wish to frighten you."

It occurs to me that arguing with a king is most likely the height of disrespect, so I nod and cast my eyes down, ashamed of myself and my curiosity. Of course as a king, he has the final say on everything.

"Hey, I will tell you, someday. Just not today."

I nod again, not really able to think of a response. What does one say to that? I certainly don't know what would be appropriate and what wouldn't be.

He seems to note my submissiveness with a disapproving eye, and he lets go of my legs to lift my chin with his now-free hand.

"Please don't think that way. I would wish you to think of me as a friend, and not a king."

He must see the hesitation in my eyes, because he takes further steps to convince me.

"You and I...we are are not so different," he starts, taking my hand in his and laying it over his heart. "See? I have a heart that beats, as you do. We are equals, you and I. Would I take such pains to comfort you this night were we not?"

I suppose he must be right. Still, it's a difficult concept to wrap my insignificant little head around. But I should try, since I do owe him for making the snake go away tonight. So I nod yet again, and risk a glance up at his face. More of my innate fear of him melts away when I see the earnestness that lies there. Yes, I can trust him at least a little.

He smiles softly, seemingly pleased with my acquiescence. The corners of my own mouth lift up too, because I really am feeling better and I'm happy to have pleased him.

"Now perhaps you had better get a little more sleep before the sun rises." With this, the king stands and walks from the foot of the bed to the side, laying me down painstakingly slow, as if he's afraid of hurting me. Yet another touching, caring gesture.

He lifts the covers over me much like Nikki did earlier, but he's even more gentle about it. Pressing one last kiss to my temple, he bids me goodnight.

"Sleep well, Laurah. Shall I ask Nikki to keep you company again?"

I nod, less robotically than usual I think. He brushes my hair away from my face and just like that, he's gone out the door. Moments later, Nikki appears beside me, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Well?" she asks, sounding almost giddy.

I shrug and try to ignore the slight flush on my cheeks. She plops down on the other side of the bed, trying to hide her smile of glee as she nestles down and falls asleep again. I take a minute to wonder at what's got her so happy before smiling fondly and trying to get back to sleep as well.

* * *

><p><strong>I closed the poll yesterday, and it looks like you all want a NikkiSadrian romance, though it was pretty close as to when. But by a one-vote margin, Nikki/Sadrian in TLAK wins.  
>A note: It might take a while to happen, but I'll try to get it in before the end of TLAK.<strong>

**Lastly, reviews do help speed up updates, since they might slack from 3-4 days to 5 after January 30. The reason for the slack is because the second semester just started for me, so there's all the messiness of adjusting to new classes and such. But I will make an effort to keep up with the pace, but reviews do help with the motivation :P**

**Review!**


	19. Chapter 18

**A little late I know, but not too bad right? :)**

**Okay, I haven't been feeling very well at all, so I do apologize profusely if I come across as blunt or blase right now :P And I haven't had the energy to write much, so the next chapter might take a little more time to finish...my head start has caught up to my updating :P**

**And thank you to my reviewers right off the bat! You guys are the best part of my day! :) (oh, and if you know you've reviewed first on a chapter, you can just send a question if you want. At the moment, I'm too tired to check who has what :P)**

**Gentle Blossom - Yes, progress! Slowly but surely, yes? XD And I made a point of getting MopMan in there for ya ;) And you'll love the beginning of this chapter...;D  
>Oh, and the frying pan and such were in the hold of the ship, you know, down below deck? That's where they were, sorry that wasn't clear :P<br>Hahaha well Nikki can be a little bundle of fun, can't she? :P  
>Thanks for the feedback! :)<strong>

**Evy201 - See, I'm not totally cruel! :P I love Laurah and Caspian almost as much as you all do! ;)  
>Hahaha well scenes like that come out during my coffee-caused spurts of writing mania :P<strong>

**I don't know how many times I've stated that I don't own Narnia, so if you for some reason haven't figured it out...I don't care. :P**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

The next morning, I awake to a very rough shaking of my shoulder.

"Five more minutes, Mom," I grumble, pulling the covers over my head and burrowing under the pillow.

"I should hope I do not look like your mother, Miss Nikki."

"I should've known it was you, MopMan," I grouse, batting his hand away from my poor abused shoulder.

"The morning is growing old, and you managed to miss breakfast. It's time to get up," he presses on, shaking my other shoulder.

"Shut your trap and let a girl sleep!"

"I do not own a trap, but if I ever acquire one I shall be sure to close it especially for you. Until then, I must insist you get up."

"Go away. I need my beauty sleep."

"You look perfectly fine without it. Up!"

"Go jump overboard."

"I shall, once you get up."

"I hate you."

"That is most unfortunate, but I shan't let you be until you arise."

"I'll get up when you go away."

"I fear I can't trust you to get up if I leave. Up now, Miss Nikki. Up!" He punctuates this last order with the most bone-rattling shake yet, which earns him the hard smack on his hand I quickly bestow.

"No."

"Very well then, you leave me no alternative."

"What are you tal- HEY! PUT ME DOWN, KNUCKLE-BRAIN!" I roar out my displeasure as MopMan does the unthinkable – he quite literally forces me out of bed!

Hence, I am completely justified in my shrieking and frenzied kicking at he picks me up, covers and all, and starts walking to the door.

"PUT ME DOWN! I'm up, okay?! I'm up I'm up I'm up!"

"Are you certain?" he smirks, pulling the edge of the sheet over my face.

"Yes! Now set me down like a good MopMan and maybe I won't chuck you overboard myself!" I holler, still flailing about like a madwoman.

"Very well, miss."

I'm about to rejoice at my victory, but my breath for this is abruptly cut off when MopMan unceremoniously dumps me plum on the floor!

"Why you-!" I splutter, blindly swinging a right hook at where I think he might be. Of course, that stupid sheet is still over my face, so I can't see! Oooo, when I get a hold of him…! He is a dead man, I tell you!

I yell this very sentiment as I try hopelessly to disentangle myself from the covers, only succeeding in entangling myself even more.

"I WILL THROW YOU OVERBOARD LIKE A TURKEY I WILL!" My bellowed threat echoes in the small cabin, and MopMan just laughs, probably dying of the giggles at the sight of me entangled like a freaking mummy! Blast these darnded sheets! I'll burn these things and use them for a fire to roast MopMan on, I swear!

"Untangle me this instant!"

"As you w-w-wish m-miss-ss-ss," he snorts out, barely intelligible through his cackles.

"I understand the slight hilarity here, but I'm suffocating in processed cotton! Get me out, and that's not worthy of a please tacked onto the end!" I screech, now clawing at my captor Sir Sheet of Doom.

"P-Patience, miss!" MopMan says as he tugs at the sheets entrapping me. Not that he's much use what with his fit of laughter he's enduring. He's less use than I am, for crying out loud! Which I am, by the way, very loudly.

"You're not doing any good, fumble-fingers! Geez!"

"I'm trying my best, I assure you."

"Try harder! I'm dying in here!"

"Shall I throw your body overboard then?"

"I'm not dead yet, numskull! So hurry it up! Please and thank you!"

"Ah, now that you've remembered your manners I can help in earnest."

"You weren't before?!"

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

"Who are you, my mother?!"

"I think we've covered that question earlier this morning, ma'am."

"Cut the formalities already, before I finish you off with a frying pan!"

"I don't think one is readily accessible, milady."

"I am not your lady, and cut the formalities I said!"

"You did not say, you shouted."

"What, that means you don't have to listen?"

"It makes it optional, yes."

"Says who?!"

"Manners, etiquette, a general sense of politeness."

"Those are whats, not whos!"

"And your point is?"

"My point, my dear dead MopMan, is that I am still trapped in these sheets and I am going to deal you death by frying pan when I finally get untangled!"

"Isn't that incentive for me to keep you tangled?" he counters, immediately ceasing all efforts to help me.

"I don't care if it is or not! Just get me out!"

"Get you out what?"

"Please, dang it!" I squeal, swinging another right hook. To my everlasting satisfaction, this one finds its mark. A brief yowl of pain ensues, at which point I yell, "You had it coming, you jerk!"

To which he responds, "I do not think cracking my ribs was fair revenge!"

"I do, and the woman is always right. Argument over."

"How is that correct?"

"It's a law of life, buddy. Learn it now and you shall have peace and zen all your life." Finally, I manage to poke my head out from the covers, and the rest of me swiftly follows suit.

"At last, you emerge!" MopMan congratulates me, though he looks a little afraid for his life now that I'm free. With good reason too, I might add.

"Yes, and I am going to slaughter you now. Goodbye, MopMan!" With this, I leap up with every intention of throttling him, but he, sadly, anticipates me and springs to his feet before my hands can close around his sorry little neck.

Being the little stinker he is, MopMan bolts out the door like the very devil is on his heels. Well, in this case, it's just a fire-breathing teenage girl dressed to kill. So basically, the devil herself is on his heels. And I am, too. I'm inches behind him, shouting every threat that comes to mind.

"You are a dead man, do you hear me?! A dead man!"

"Not yet, I am not!"

In this fashion, I chase this little bugger around and around the mast, both of us skidding and sliding on the somewhat slick wooden deck. Several times, I almost manage to snag the tail of his shirt, but each time he evades me.

His sudden break in the circular pattern sends me flying across the deck on my bum as I try to do an about-face to continue the chase. I purposely ignore the many odd and amused stares this little escapade attracts, and decide it's time to channel my inner football player.

This is why I dive for that boy and tackle him clean to the ground. And wrestle him like he's got a football underneath him. And the only reason he doesn't overpower me is because he's laughing too hard to put up a fight.

Fingers clenching the front of his shirt in a death grip, I drag him to his feet and promptly to the rail of the deck, to the place where the rail is actually missing from the serpent's attack. I'm fully intending to throw him overboard when he actually apologizes.

"Alright, alright, I apologize, miss! Truly and contritely, I swear!"

I eye him suspiciously, never letting go of his shirt.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" I hiss, scowling as fiercely as I can with giggles tearing at my throat.

"I did not actually think you were serious. Forgive me, Miss Nikki."

I keep him in suspense a little while more, letting his head hang over the edge of the deck, before nodding curtly and pulling him to his feet. I'll never admit it, but I'm about to bust into peals of laughter any minute now. Even in my annoyance, I have to admit this entire morning has, thus far, really been rather funny.

For a moment, we just stand there looking suspiciously at each other, both of us entirely willing to toss the other clean overboard if need be. Then, neither of us can hold it in anymore. We fall to the ground simultaneously, cackling like maniacs as our sides stitch up from the lack of oxygen.

"I still-ll h-hate y-y-y-you!" I splutter out, snorting amid my hysterics.

MopMan can't even answer me, and he's gasping for breath like a fish plum out of water. And of course this just adds to the hilarity of it all, and pretty soon I can't breathe either. This is how His Royal Majesty finds us.

"I beg your pardon, but what exactly is going on here?" Caspian questions, one eyebrow cocked in obvious confusion.

MopMan swallows his laughter before I can, and pulls himself to his feet to answer the good monarch.

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but…" he falters, entirely unsure what to call out little escapade. Luckily for his moppy self, I chime in to save his skin. Well, more mine than his, but still!

"I was rudely awakened and entangled in the covers, and then threatened to throw MopMan here overboard. And attempted to make good on my threat until he apologized."

"Ah, well I'm glad you were able to work that squabble out," he chuckles.

Hm, he seems much…lighter? Happier? Than before. I'm hoping my hunch last night was correct. Oh wait, where is Laurah?!

"Hey Cas, where is-"

"No need to fret, she's with me." He moves to the side to reveal the very chica I was about to sweat bullets over.

"Whew, thank goodness," I breathe out, hand over my chest to demonstrate my immense relief. "Hey there chica! How ya feelin?"

The slight smile that tips up the corners of her mouth evokes a giddy grin from me. She really is getting better!

"Oh, and Nikki? May I have a word with you, please?"

Suddenly, my blood freezes in my veins. He's about to mention yesterday's potatoes and frying pan knock-out, isn't he?!

I choke down my fear long enough to wave Laurah over.

"Hey chica, there's someone I want you to meet, if you haven't been introduced to the guy already."

She, with Caspian's help, sidles on over to me, still a mite unsteady on her feet. My arm instantly goes around her shoulders to steady her as soon as she's within my reach.

"Alrighty chica, this is MopMan, but he might want you to call him Sadrian, so just go with that. Laurah, this is Sadrian. Sadrian, meet Laurah."

"Pleasure, my lady," MopMan bows in respect, because she was Caspian's fiancée and all, and hence future Queen of Narnia. Whoa…future freaking queen! I'm bff's with royalty?! Anyway…

Laurah looks to me for confirmation that he's alright, which I quickly give with a nod. However much I wanted to strangle him this morning, I do know I can trust him to look after Laurah while Caspian banishes me to the farthest ends of the earth for knocking him out with a frying pan.

"Look after her for a little while, would you?" I address this question to MopMan, who kindly accepts this brief responsibility. Besides, he knows I'll eat him for lunch if he lets anything happen to her.

So since I'm confidant she's in good hands, I follow Caspian a little ways down from them, towards the bow of the ship. My apology tumbles out before I even mean it to.

"Listen, I'm sorry about the other day. It was pure accident, I swear! I'll admit I found it spittingly hilarious, but it was completely not on purpose, I promise you!"

"I was going to fill you in on what Aslan told me about Coriakin, but now that you bring that up…"

"No no no, let's talk old Corry-boy. We can discuss terms of my banishment later," I hurriedly assure him, waving to demonstrate the 'later'.

He raises an eyebrow, but decides to leave my punishment for later after all. Though judging by the slight twinkle in his eye, I don't think my punishment will be too severe at all.

"Very well. You know Coriakin is a magician, yes?" At my nod, he continues, "Aslan told me he knows the mist, and can help her. The reason she only improved a little after Dark Island was destroyed is because the source behind the mist still lives. Aslan said the source is an old friend of the White Witch, but He doesn't know who exactly. So after Coriakin helps Laurah, that is my next quest."

"That's where you're wrong," I quietly correct, nudging his shoulder.

He looks over at me, questioning in his eyes, but I grin lopsidedly and continue.

"Our quest. You don't think I'm about to let you have all the fun around here, do ya?"

"Nikki, it will likely be dangerous and-"

"No ifs, ands, or buts. I'm helping, and that's that."

"Nikki-"

"Remember, this thing messed with my best friend. I want to get rid of it."

This is enough to convince him, because Caspian nods his consent.

"Well if you're going to be helping, you'd best learn how to fight."

"Uh, excuse me? You want to put a sword in my hand?" Now I'm questioning his sanity.

"A sword or a bow, but first you must learn to handle a knife."

"Erm, if you say so," I reply dubiously. He'll be lucky if I manage not to cut him clean in half by sheer accident.

"Oh I won't be the one training you," he says, seeming to read my thoughts.

"Beg pardon?"

"Sadrian will."

So many different splutters find their way past my lips I'll never understand how my vocal chords came up with them.

"W-what?"

"You seem to be friends, are you not?"

"Erm, define friends. I was thinking more along the lines of frenemies."

"I'm sure you both will get along perfectly fine. I would suggest you start today, Nikki."

"Sure thing," I squeak, wringing my hands nervously. MopMan and I are likely to cut each other's heads off before the first hour of training is up! Just watch, I'll be right!

"Shall we return to Laurah then?" Caspian turns to go, but I stop him with a question.

"Wait! How did last night go, champ?" My worry-sick face quickly morphs into an impish smile as I recall how relaxed Laurah seemed to be last night after he left.

"Well – it went very well." His own grin looks wide enough to span the world and then some.

"Yeah? Well that's fantabulous!" I can't resist breaking out into a celebratory round of happy dancing at this astoundingly-wonderful slice of news. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I knew there was the real Laurah down there somewhere!

Once I finish my celebrating, I turn to a wide-eyed but amused Caspian.

"I won't even ask," he chuckles, leading me back to Laurah and MopMan. Who, as it turns out, seem to be getting along rather well. Laurah's smiling again, and MopMan looks absolutely ridiculous demonstrating what looks to be a reenactment of this morning's craziness. But Caspian and I both have to laugh at the scene, and I'm even more pleased to see that Laurah's smile grows when she sees us both.

We stand on either side of her and watch MopMan's antics feeling lighter than we have in a while really.

* * *

><p>Laurah POV:<p>

Nikki and the king are still laughing, and I'm still smiling as Sadrian finishes his little show. I think I can trust him too – he seems kind and silly.

I still haven't said much, and nothing since waking up, but no one has insisted I do, so I simply don't.

Sadrian bows, his curls blowing every which way in the breeze, as we clap. It feels good, being around things that are funny. It helps a lot, makes life seem like it's not so much of a nightmare after all.

Sadrian and Nikki start talking, and I immediately leave myself in the background. I'm no good in conversations, and I really prefer to be left out of them if possible. Groups make me a little uncomfortable, though I'm not sure why.

And yet, the very instant I step away to be semi-alone, the haunting feelings return. I may be improving in my sanity, but I won't deny I'm still shaky. And the snake always wants to come back. It never can during the day, when I'm awake, but at night? The night is its domain, where it has free rein to do what it wills with me.

I can't help but remember its visit last night. First it bit my parents, then my sprite family, then just me, over and over again, covering my face especially in wounds. And the venom, so much venom…

"Laurah?"

A gentle hand pulls me back to the now, where the snake can't touch me. I look up to see the king looking down worriedly at me, almost bracing for another of my fits. But I won't have one now – there's no snake. There's no trigger.

For a moment he seems to be mulling over what to do, what to say, before he settles on a simple question.

"Forgive my curiosity, but what did you dream of last night?"

My fear threatens to return, but this time, I somehow manage to keep it bottled up. Something about sharing what assaults me at night sounds so reassuring, almost like a guarantee that I won't be alone. Still, I don't want to talk about it.

So I start off toward the cabin, trying to ignore how unsteady I still am on my feet. The king is beside me in an instant, steadying me with gentle hands on my back. Since I decided I can trust him, this evokes no fearful response.

We make our way there, where I start looking for paper and something to write with. I mime this to the king, who nods and pulls a piece of parchment and a feather from a chest. I look at the feather, confused, and he has to explain.

"You write with it. Here, I'll show you." He dips the tip into a small little bottle-type thing, which he calls an inkwell. He then places the feather in my hand and gestures for me to write what I will. But I'm not planning on writing. No, that won't do the snake justice. So I draw it.

At first, it's really difficult. My hand is shaky and inexperienced with drawing, and the feather is strange in my grip. But I manage, and soon the horrific thing begins to take shape on the parchment. First, I portray the head, mouth open and fangs dripping and eyes glaring. Next, the body – scaled and twisted and deadly. I even add the sharp little needles on the end of the scales. Finally, the tail, with its horrid little rattle – bone-colored, sectioned, tapering to a point at its end.

Again and again I dip the feather into the ink, never satisfied until I've painted every grisly detail. I don't want to be alone in my fears, my terrors of the night. It takes a while, but finally I'm done. For a moment, I hide it beneath my fingertips, afraid of even this portrayal. But the king's hand gently pries the parchment from under my fingers and I let it go.

I don't miss the slight gasp that escapes King Caspian's mouth, and I instantly want to take back the parchment and burn it. Certainly my little drawing wasn't good enough to portray the snake so frighteningly. And yet, by his face, he is frightened, and not a small amount either.

I want to yank back the drawing now more than ever, because who am I to scare the king with things I see? I've overstepped my bounds, probably yet again. So I attempt to take it back, but he just moves it away, as if he's determined to hold on to it. Why? Surely he can't mean to keep the horrendous rendering of the snake.

"This is what you see?" he whispers, one hand almost covering his lips.

I can only nod silently and cast my eyes down at the floor. I'm ashamed.

"Laurah…" he starts to ask something, but changes whatever it is he was going to say. "What does it do to you?"

I can only look at him, and at the picture. What is it snakes usually do? Why would this one be any different? Still, I'm not sure he'll understand what I mean. And yet, he seems to.

"I'm sorry."

I shrug and move again to take the parchment back. I don't need his pity, and I don't deserve it either. Especially not a king's pity. I don't even deserve to be on this ship!

"Every night?"

'As by far, yes,' my eyes say as my arms wrap around my middle. My bones are hard against my hands, and I begin to think that Nikki may be right that I'm too skinny. But don't I deserve that?

"Was it in Dark Island too?"

Another nod from me confirms this, and he closes his eyes like I've just told him the saddest thing in the world. I'm suddenly so frightened that I've gone out of place yet again, and so I tentatively reach up to lift his chin. A king shouldn't look so sorry for scum like me. But then again, who am I to say what a king should be?

But he smiles just a bit at my touch, and unless my imagination is playing tricks on me again, almost leans into my touch, light and timid though it is. I almost flinch away, because the concept of someone wanting my touch is so utterly strange that it seems dangerous and scary too.

"Remember what I told you last night, Laurah. You have nothing to fear from me," he murmurs, catching my hand and holding it fast as I begin to let it fall. His lips press against my fingers, and in spite of my fear at the foreign action, I don't pull away. I'm trying to do as he asked - to not be afraid. Or at the very least, not show my fear to him.

"Why do you almost never speak, my lady?" The king's voice breaks a bit at the end of his soft question, and sudden tears spring to my eyes. I didn't mean to make him sad.

It occurs to me that I don't know why I don't talk. I suppose I just never have the inclination or real want. I'm content to remain in silence, not speak. Maybe it seems useless to try and communicate when I know, deep down, how utterly alone I am here. People here care certainly, but who can know me truly? I am nothing more than a madwoman. I am a stranger even to myself.

My shoulders lift in an almost-imperceptible shrug, and he opens his arms the minute they're finished. I hesitate as I always do, still unsure if I'm ready for physical contact more than a minimal amount. But he's a king, and I have no place, as a madwoman, to refuse him.

I shuffle forward until I'm against his chest and his arms instantly wrap around my thin frame. Cautiously, my own arms lift until they're encircling his torso. This feels strange, this close proximity, but I can't say it isn't at least a little nice. I almost feel…safe, here with the king holding me close.

My eyes have just started to drift closed in contentment when the door to the cabin flies open and Nikki waltzes in, chattering about something.

"-and boy, that was a royal mess I tell you! I wish I had some more of that awesome stuff, but-Oh! Hi there. Erm…I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

A smile cracks my face and I nod slightly to tell my best friend that it's alright. The king follows suit, so Nikki continues talking to Sadrian.

"Anyway, as far as finding the stuff here, it looks pretty unlikely. However, if I find any more I might have accidentally brought with me, I shall be sure to share it with you. Okie dokie artichokie?"

"May I ask what an 'artichokie' is?"

"They don't have artichokes here?"

"I'm afraid not."

"What a shame. Well they're bushy kind of things, with leaves and such, only you don't eat much of the leaves, just the base part of it. I'm not fond of them, but some people dip the meaty part in butter and nom them, so I guess they can't be totally nasty. Don't eat the wrong end though, it basically tastes like wood marinated in squirrel spit. Not delectable at all."

Just hearing Nikki in one of her food shpeals lifts my spirits a good bit. Then again, Nikki always has a knack for cheering me up at least a little, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. But I shouldn't take it for granted either.

"Remember that, chica?"

I look up, confused. I guess I wasn't listening close enough. Bless Nikki, because she only laughs and repeats her question.

"Remember when you tried the artichoke heart?"

I do. No pleasant memories there. I don't remember the whole thing, but I remember not liking the taste and spitting it out into my napkin at the restaurant. My scrunched face tells Nikki all this in a moment.

"I know, right? Not exactly our cup of tea, was it?"

I shake my head vehemently, vaguely noting that King Caspian hasn't really loosened his embrace. I'm still practically pressed up against his chest. This realization, coupled with the fact that Nikki is smirking and utterly failing to make it discreet, is enough to turn my face an embarrassing shade of pink. Still, I can't pull away lest I offend him.

An uncertain glance up shows me that the king is smiling almost amusedly at my pink cheeks, but he does loosen his arms enough to let me breathe, so to speak. Still somewhat self-conscious, I cast my gaze down again, noting with interest that he's wearing a blue shirt as I do. Did he take my catch phrase to heart?

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?" I murmur, one of my hands resting on the fabric that's so pleasing to my mad side.

One of his hands lifts one of mine and presses it to his heart, the blue fabric the only thing separating my hand from his skin. I start to pull away, nervous at the closeness, but what I see when I look at his hand stops me. It's trembling, ever so slightly. Why?

On a mad impulse, I cover his hand with my free one. It's a stupid move really, every ounce of my mind is screaming at me so. But his face tells me he doesn't agree with what my mind thinks. Well, my mind is so scrambled and scattered anyway, why do I need to listen to it? King Caspian certainly seems happy right now, in spite of my mind's protests.

Our eyes meet, and it takes everything I have not to look away and pull away. My fear is climbing by the second, but I'm trying to keep it under wraps. After all, he said I have nothing to fear from him, so it would be rude to defy him. No matter how scared I am, I can't show it. Not to him at least.

"What did the mist show you?" His quiet question freezes me in place as memories shoot through my veins.

The mist, the mist, the memories. My vision blurs and reality disappears. My memories flash before my eyes and I shove away from the coiled snake that now stands in front of me, its tail curling around my waist and holding me captive.

I hear the rattle. How it is back so soon? Why now? No matter. I deserve this, as I deserve all the other things that've happened to me. All the bad things, they're meant to be. And just like I'll never escape this snake, I'll never escape this. I'm never meant to.

A scream rises in my throat as the snake multiplies, grows, turns into a monster bigger than me. It looks just like I drew it, maybe worse. There are the fangs now, ready to sink into my flesh for the thousandth time, or so it seems. What will the venom show me this time? I can't guess what it's dreamed up for me now.

I can't see, can't speak, can't force screams past my closing throat. I can't breathe. Its tail has left my waist for my neck, and the tiny needles on its scales dig into me wherever this snake touches me. I see my blood starting to run down my neck in rivulets of red. It burns me, my own blood. Is there venom in the tips of the needles too?

The snake laughs a horrible hissing laugh, its fanged mouth open in malicious glee. It loves this, watching me suffer. I deserve this, I know I do. That's the only reason I can even stay alive. Because I know I don't deserve to die.

Suddenly, this serpent has too many tails to count, and all of them are rattling in front of my face, the sharp tips slicing into my skin, eyes, ears, lips, nose, cheeks, anything they can reach. A shriek rises above the cacophony of hissing as the tips curl under my skin, multiplying my agony. I'm being skinned alive.

It shakes me wildly, driving the tips-turned-hooks even deeper past my skin, and another animalistic wail rises. Maybe it's coming from me, I don't know. It doesn't matter.

More pain, from an unidentifiable source. I can't see which serpent is ripping my skin from my body anymore – the blood flowing over my face and into my mouth and nose is blinding me and suffocating me, until I'm choking on it.

I'm back in the world where only screams exist.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<strong>

**Haha just kidding, nowhere near it. You can all breathe :P**

**And I don't think I've got anything else to jabber on about...so leave a review if you like or you've got the time :P**

**Until next chapter y'all!**


	20. Chapter 19

**Okay, not too long a wait, right? :P **

**I'm still feeling a little 'eh' so again, I apologize if I come across as painfully sarcastic :P**

**NymphadoraLupin98 - Hahaha I do apologize, I just couldn't resist XD  
>Ah yes, a little silliness was overdue, wasn't it?<br>A little? Haha well, better than a lot I suppose :P But don't worry, there can still be cutifulness ;)  
>Good to hear from you again! :)<strong>

**WriteToEscapeReality1309 - Well thank you very much! :D  
>Haha I'm glad you enjoyed that! I could see a mental Nikki racing around in my head...or maybe in my mug of coffee...eh, same difference :P<br>And again, it seems I have the easiest time writing the creepy stuff...weird, right? But hey, as long as you readers enjoy it! :P But thank you, I'm glad it was so vivid! :D  
>Gracias for the review!<strong>

**Evy201 - Haha work in couple-cutesy with terror - this is my style! :P  
>And thank you, I do as well. Otherwise writing these chapters in the span of days won't be so easy anymore :P Anyway, thank you! :) And also for reviewing! :)<strong>

**Garideth - Haha out loud? XD I'd have loved to be there if so! :P  
>Yes, the false hope is painful, isn't it? : But it's all part of her madness, see. Relapses, as it were. :]  
>Nice hearing from you! :)<strong>

**Disclaimer - Figure it out, people of Earth and all other dimensions. You're smart. :)**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

The instant I hear that scream, I'm flying back into the cabin, all thoughts of procrastinating my training gone. I thought she was getting better. Was I wrong? Or was there something to trigger the madness?

No matter, the only important thing is that we help her right now. I barely notice the door, I crash through it so quickly. I locate Laurah within seconds, head thrown back and frightening sounds coming from her mouth. She would have hit the floor on her back, but Caspian's supporting her back, somehow managing to dodge her frantically-flailing arms.

I'm beside them in a moment, supporting Laurah from behind so Caspian can let her go. Maybe it'd be best if she was lying down until this passes.

"What happened, Caspian?" I whisper in a lull between the screams.

"I'm not sure," he whispers right back, looking to be in something of a shock.

I wave it off, focusing only on what could calm my best friend down right now. Racking my brains, I still come up with no ideas.

"Any brilliant plans, Cas?" I hiss, my panic starting to escalate. This bout is even worse than the first one we saw, back when she first came on board.

The poor guy starts to shake his head, but suddenly stops. So he does have an idea! Wonderful!

"Spill the beans Your Highness!"

Dismissal and fear register on Caspian's face, and he waggles his head back and forth vehemently. I won't have any of it. If he has an idea, however crazy it may be, darn it all, we're going to try it, or my name's not Nikki Kathleen Alice Stevens!

"Cut the crap and just do it! She can't get any worse, gosh dang it!"

He hesitates a moment more, but one of those do-it-you-idiot looks from me must do the trick. And well, he just does. It's a strange moment for me, kind of, because I'm still supporting Laurah from behind and all, and I have to look to the side because I really don't want a close-up view of Caspian kissing my best friend. Okay, so it's only a peck, but the point stands.

Well I wasn't expecting that to be his plan, I'm not gonna lie. But hey, it probably just popped into his head. And since Laurah stops screaming the moment he…well you know, I'm not complaining. In fact, she bolts upright with a deer-in-the-headlights kind of look, barely missing ramming heads with Caspian as she does. Luckily for his royal noggin, he moves just in time.

"Chica! Good gods above, you scared me! Please please please do not ever scare me like that again!"

She whirls around to face me, her face confused and frightened. Her expression practically screams 'What the heck just happened?', so I take a moment to compose myself and answer her question – mostly.

"You were screaming real scary-like, and then Caspian…well, he just sort of…brought you back to your senses," I respond, not really sure if she knows that he kissed her or not. And if she doesn't, I'm not gonna be the one to tell her.

But I discreetly shoot Caspian a thumbs-up, because he did actually return her to her sort of-right mind. Though I do wish I'd had some warning so I didn't have to be so close by, but still, the point is that Laurah's not having her screaming fit anymore.

His eyebrows look nonexistent, they're so far shot up. Is he just surprised it worked at all? Now that I think about it, I am. Had I known what he was going to do, I'd have expected Laurah to have either socked him in the face or hurt herself trying to scurry away. Well that just proves she's not as far gone as she could be, right?

She gags slightly and I can't help but think that surely Caspian isn't **that** bad of a kisser. However, I, or my slightly-humor-colored thoughts, shut right up when I notice the thin wisp of green mist coming out of her mouth. What in the name of…?!

"Caspian?" I squeak, motioning to the mist with my eyes.

However, he's no help – he's ever bit as shocked, horrified, dumbstruck as me. Go figure. In fact, he almost looks as if he's going to keel over any second, after he finishes dumping whatever breakfast he had over the side of the ship from pure shock.

My eyes never leave the stuff as it leaves Laurah and wafts into the air. I don't know whether to steer clear of that mist or try and trap it or wave it away with my hand, but Caspian seems to know exactly what to do. In a moment, before it can go very far at all, he swings a punch at the stuff, which effectively gets rid of it.

When he turns back around, I can see the barely-contained fury in his eyes. Thanks be to heaven, it's directed at that mist stuff rather than at me or Laurah. Still, it is a little surprising to see such ferocity in Caspian's – Caspian, of all people's! – eyes. I guess that's what it looks like when a man in love sees something hurting his beloved – or in this case, beloved and betrothed. Gosh, that's such an old timey word: betrothed. No normal 21st century girl uses that.

Meh, who cares. I'm not in the 21st century at the moment; I happen to be in Narnia. Just in case that's not readily apparent. What the heck am I even thinking?!

I turn my attention back to Laurah immediately, who's looking wide-eyed at Caspian and almost shrinking in fear at his expression, though it's not aimed at her. But upon seeing her fright, he instantly softens and comes back over to crouch beside her. It seriously makes me want to cry when she shies away from him.

But I thought they were doing a bit better, I thought she was doing a bit better…not anymore, maybe. But maybe it's just a temporary thing, while she gets her bearings. Yes, that must be it.

"It's okay chica, he was only helping get that awful mist away from you," I croon into her ear, rocking her back and forth.

She calms down a little, but still eyes Caspian warily. He, for one, can't seem to speak. If I can read people at all, he's begging her, without words, to not be afraid.

"I'd suggest saying something," I whisper to him, giving him a slight nudge on the shoulder for good measure.

After a moment, he nods and clears his throat ever so slightly, sitting down to look as non-threatening as possible.

"Remember what I told you, Laurah? I promise, I spoke true. You have nothing to fear from me."

"You're going to make me cry, dammit," I mumble, swiping at my eyes with one hand. I always had a soft spot for cutiful or touching moments, and this certainly qualifies in my Nikki-mind.

My eyes truly do water up when Laurah doesn't move at all, only searches his face for a sign to see if he's lying.

"You can trust him, chica," I whisper, soft enough that only she can hear.

She nods once, still apparently trusting my word implicitly even after this latest fit. And I have to suppress a relieved sigh when she relaxes and moves one hand a fraction of an inch toward Caspian. Of course, he notes this right away, and moves to take her hand in his, though slowly. Heaven knows he doesn't want to scare her any more.

She lets him, and she doesn't flinch away this time when he takes her tiny fingers into his, nor when he kisses them lightly. And this is another of those moments I'm more than happy to let them have to themselves.

"Okay y'all, I think I'll take a little stroll on deck and annoy MopMan. See ya later, amigo y amiga!" With this excuse, I gently transfer Laurah to Caspian, though she seems to be able to sit up on her own now, and leave them to whatever other happy, or at least nice, moments that they're bound to have.

* * *

><p><strong>Laurah POV:<strong>

Whatever happened to draw me away from the snake, I can't remember. I know something did, but the memory seems to be shrouded, or not even there. But from King Caspian's face, he had something to do with it.

Nikki just left, and I have to wonder why she's so eager to leave the king and me alone together. I actually miss her already, because she's the person I'm most comfortable with. While I am getting used to the king's company, Nikki's is still more familiar.

He slowly lowers my hand from his lips, but never looks away from my eyes. I don't want to be frightened of him, but that look in his eye a minute ago…I couldn't help my fear. He says I have nothing to fear from him, but that look, that face, is something that's already haunting my mind. My shattered, fragmented excuse for a mind, that is.

I'd like to know what happened, what it was that drew me away from the snake and back to this cabin. It all happened so quickly…and it's threatening to come back now. I can't help the shivers of fear traveling along my spine, the trembling of my entire body in apprehension. I remember being skinned alive – I must look so hideous now.

My free hand flies to my face and I'm dreading to find out what my face must look like, but I can't not know. I want to know how monstrous I look. I want to know how ugly and repulsive I am. But my fingers touch…skin. My skin? But wasn't it ripped off?

I probe my face, looking for visible signs of the snake's torture. But, somehow, I can find none. No scars, no tears or gaping wounds or chunks of missing flesh.

The king's hand covers my own, and warmth spills from his hand onto my skin. He must see my confusion, because he speaks soft words of comfort.

"Whatever you saw, it wasn't real. I can promise you it wasn't. See? Whatever that snake did to you is just an illusion. You're alright, you see?" he croons, holding my face in both his hands and kissing away tears I didn't even realize were dripping down my cheeks.

My eyes search his brown ones, looking for any hint of anger or ferocity. They find none, and I start to wonder if I merely imagined that look that frightened me so. It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility, knowing me. Maybe this thought is why I lean into his hands on the sides of my cheeks. There's no reason for me to do this, really, other than that it simply feels right.

"I said I would look after you, did I not?" His voice catches, and I let one of my hands fly to his throat, asking what's the matter.

The king just shakes his head, either unable or unwilling to say why his voice is failing. My hand remains at his throat, shifting to rest lightly against the side of his neck. I don't want it to seem like I could choke him if I wanted. Not that I could anyway, but still.

Suddenly I wonder if this is out of place, out of line. I'm about to ask this very question with my eyes or mime it, but King Caspian seems perfectly alright with the turn of things. And that again brings up the question of what happened to rescue me from the snake, and what the king had to do with it. Why help me?

"I care for you, Laurah," he whispers, answering the question he must have seen written in my expression. But…why care for me?

I don't miss that his eyes briefly flit to the ring on my finger and back up to my eyes. Is the ring somehow connected to that second question? How? Why does it mean something to him? Do we actually know each other from long ago, and I've somehow forgotten?

I don't expect him to read all these many questions from looking at me, but I can't find the will to speak them out loud either. Speaking is something foreign to me, and I'm not ready to give it a go just yet. I suppose my questions aren't pressing enough to warrant the use of speech to communicate them. And besides, King Caspian said he would tell me about the ring, just a bit later. I can wait.

Footsteps sound outside the door, and a bald man with creases around his eyes walks in, boots sounding heavy and maybe even frightening on the wood floor.

"You Majesty, we are approaching Ramandu's Island."

"Thank you, Captain."

So that man is the captain. He looks stern, at least judging by first impressions. But he leaves just as quickly as he came, and the king and I are once again alone.

"We should go on deck," King Caspian says softly, helping me up.

Or he tries to, at least. My knees give out almost the same moment I'm finally standing on my own two feet. I have to suppress the groan of frustration pressing at my lips back down my throat. I can complain about my weakness to myself later.

The king sweeps me up and starts to carry me as he has before, in spite of my silent protests. I don't want to be babied. Then again, I can't argue with the king, can I? It's not my place. So I hush up and stop fighting him. It wasn't doing much good anyway.

The noon sun is bright in my eyes, and I can barely see. I have to squint from the excess of light and shield my eyes with my hand. Why is the sun so bright here? It's almost painful to look at really, especially to one so used to dark as I.

"Aw chica, you can't stand again? I'm sorry," cheeps my best friend in my ear, hidden from my sight by the murderous sun. "Here, I can take her. It looks like the good Captain Sparrow wants to chat with ya."

I feel a vague shifting, like I'm moving from one person's arms to another's – which I am actually, so that makes sense. Nikki doesn't even seem to be bothered in the slightest by my weight. It's almost like I literally weigh nothing with how easily she holds me up.

"You know what? Let's get some more food in you – heaven knows you could use it."

My hand still over my eyes, I allow Nikki to lead me by my wrist back off deck and back to the cabin, thankful for the significantly dimmer lighting inside.

"Sun too bright for ya? Yeah, me too. You know, it's great for tanning, but it can be such a pain on the eyes."

I smile in agreement as my eyes adjust to the light in here and Nikki grabs the remaining half of the loaf from somewhere across the room. The faint smell of the bread wafts into my nose, and I can't help but think that it does smell kind of good. My stomach even growls a bit at the sight of the golden-topped loaf, which is new. I can't even remember the last time my stomach growled – I'm so used to going without food I suppose I forgot what hunger is.

I try not to take the bread greedily, because I don't deserve it. Come to think of it, why am I even accepting it? Well, probably because Nikki wouldn't take no for an answer if I tried to refuse. And I do remember her frowning at my skin-and-bones frame, and I don't want to upset her by still not eating.

She places a piece in my palm, and my fingers close around it of their own accord. It's a little hard from being left out overnight, but still, I'm not complaining. Or, my stomach isn't. The part of me that feels hunger is more than happy with it. The crust crumbles a bit in my fingers as they clamp down on the bit of bread and bring it to my mouth. I'm still remembering how to chew, so my bites are slow and hesitant. It feels foreign, having something between my teeth. Even swallowing feels a little strange.

The bread is heavy in my mouth, weighing like glue on my tongue. Not because it's too dense, but because I can't help but think that I shouldn't be taking this, accepting food. Don't I deserve the discomfort going without brings?

"No chica, you don't," Nikki states, as if she heard my thoughts. I've lost count of how many times she's done that. I suppose she's just very good at reading me, especially considering how long she's known me.

"Come on, one bite of bread isn't enough. Shoot, I'd love it if you ate whole loaves at a time, but MopMan is worried it'd make you sick, all that food at once. I think he said something about shocking your system or the like. Which of course, this one time I actually listened to him," Nikki chatters, motioning for me to keep eating.

I force another bite down my throat, ignoring how unpleasant the weight settling in my stomach feels. It's strange, how even two bites of bread feel odd and out of place. I'm hoping Nikki won't notice my discomfort, because she really doesn't need anything else to worry about. But just yesterday, I was perfectly content to gobble down half the loaf. Then again, that was before the snake's recent visits.

"Chica? Stay in the here and now, por favor. I do like it much better when you're not having a fit."

Nikki's words are serious, but she manages to keep the tone light, though I'll never know how she does. Was I ever like that, so happy and easygoing and silly yet mature?

"Laurah? Earth to Laurah," she continues, waving her hand in front of my face and snapping her fingers inches from my eyes. I do manage to pull myself from my maze of thinking, much to her relief. "You had me worried for a sec, chica. Chillax, all is well in the world. Well, other than the most unfortunate lack of coffee around here. I wonder if coffee beans even exist here. I don't know about you, but I might have to start a riot if there aren't, ya know?"

A grin inches its way across my lips, and I can't help but nod in total agreement. Coffee does sound nice, all warm and energizing. It'd probably have the same effect on me that energy drink did. Which, needless to say, was quite an effect. I actually don't remember much, other than laughing a lot and King Caspian getting hammered with potatoes and Nikki squeaking out "Oopsie" about four times in the space of five minutes or less. It was a good time, I'll admit that.

At Nikki's prodding, I manage to eat another half of the remaining loaf before I just can't eat any more. I'm full and tired of eating right now, and the weight in my stomach is almost unbearable. Besides, weren't we getting close to Ramandu's Island? Another set of footsteps enters the cabin, and I look to up to see Sadrian – or MopMan as Nikki calls him – trotting on over. He can't resist throwing Nikki a sarcastically cheeky glance as he shoos us up on deck.

"Forgive the intrusion, m'ladies, but many of the crew are beginning to board longboats to go ashore on Ramandu's Island, and King Caspian thought you might wish to join the party."

"Okie dokie, we's a-coming!" Nikki calls as she gently but firmly pulls me to my feet.

My legs start to give out again, but with steadying hands from her and Sadrian, I manage to stay upright. Determined to walk on my own, I shake my head when they offer to carry me. I want to do this on my own. I want to be at least that strong.

I force my legs to stop shaking and practically lock my knees in place, though I'm still relying on their arms for support at the moment. Slowly, I ease off of Sadrian, managing to only lurch a little. I can do this, I think. So I let go of Nikki too, in spite of her protests. I almost fall, but I catch myself. Not Nikki, not Sadrian – just me. I keep myself from falling. And while it may seem like a small thing at first, it means so much more than the face value.

My face must be wearing some pleased and maybe even proud sort of face, because Nikki looks so happy she'll bust and fly apart into a million energy-infused pieces. And then maybe put herself back together in five seconds, but hey, that's just Nikki.

Shifting from one foot to the other, I lean my head toward the door and start off. Slowly at first, but at least I'm doing it on my own. I resist the urge to grab onto the table nearby for balance. I want to say I did this all on my own.

I make it to the door with Nikki and Sadrian behind me, though they manage to sprint ahead to open it for me. It's not necessary, really, but it's sweet nonetheless, and I'll accept that much help. Even if I don't deserve it, because they don't deserve the sadness my refusal would inflict.

However, the unevenness of the wooden deck does pose more of a problem than the smooth cabin floor. But Nikki catches me before I can even trip.

"Whoa there chica, maybe I can give you a hand now? Well, figuratively speaking. I'd really rather not have to chop off my hand and give it to ya, you know what I mean?"

I grin at Nikki's innocently sarcastic tone, marveling at her good spirits that never seem to flag. How she does it, I will never know.

"Laurah, Nikki, there you are!" the king greets us warmly as if he hasn't seen us, especially me, for days. But I am slightly happy from the earnest happiness, and even some of my fear of closeness with the king wanes.

"Hola, Cas! Shall we see if the Lords of Meditation are awakened from their yoga coma yet?"

King Caspian can't seem to help the laugh that slips past his throat.

"Nikki, need I remind you that they are Lords of **Telmar**, and not Meditation?"

"You can remind me til the cows come home, but to me they shall always be Lords of Meditation!"

Everyone laughs then, including me. And the king's discreet though pleased expression isn't lost on me either. It's not such a big deal, really. But maybe to him it is.

"Are we ready, Your Highness?" asks Rhince, who I think I heard referred to as the 'first mate,' whatever that means.

"Yes, thank you Rhince. Laurah?" The king holds his hand out to me, and it takes me a minute to realize why. Oh! The boat, he's offering to help me into the boat, or so it seems.

Naturally, I accept with a smile and a duck of my head that is my way of communicating a thank you. Several other crewmen are already in the boat, but I'm nervous around them because I don't know them, so I sit on the other end. Thankfully, they don't seem to be offended.

Nikki clambers in and takes a seat next to me, and Sadrian and King Caspian are the last ones in. My stomach gives a little lurch of fear when the boat suddenly begins to drop, but Nikki reins in my fright with a reassuring pat on my back.

"Hakuna matata, they're just lowering the boat onto the water. Boats tend to move best when they're on something other than air."

As per usual, Nikki's humor-tinted comment lightens my face and eyes.

I notice the king and Nikki in particular keeping an eye on me though, most likely worried I'll try to jump out of the boat. I can't say it isn't tempting, but I won't. Besides the obvious defiance it would entail, I know they'd be able to have me back on the boat inside a minute. It would be a waste of an effort on my part.

I do drag my fingers in the water for a moment though. But I can't keep them there long – anything strange frightens me, and cold sea water rushing over my fingertips is foreign, and hence strange. Luckily, the ride in the boat isn't too long, and I can step out onto land soon enough. It's a strange texture though, and I turn to Nikki to know what it is. It's certainly not rock – it shifts under my feet, and my shoes leave behind footprints in the stuff.

"That's sand. I guess since we never really went to the beach back home it'd be easy to forget. But it's basically powderized rock and don't get it in your mouth, because it's gritty and…well, sandy," she explains patiently. She's a saint, this best friend of mine.

The king leads the way, as is appropriate, but he does want me close behind him. Of course, I oblige, still keeping Nikki with me though. Between the two of them and Sadrian, who stays close to Nikki much like a younger sibling might, I'm kept from falling flat on my face. The ground is quite uneven, and I'm still not steady enough on my feet to manage this terrain on my own.

"Oh, and heads up chica, you might want to just close your eyes when we get to the bridge and let me lead you across, okay?"

I frown in confusion at this odd suggestion, but I trust Nikki so I nod. What is it that she doesn't want me to see though? It must be frightening, or maybe she's worried it might be a trigger, or maybe it's both. Whatever the case, I'll take her suggestion. I don't want to have the snake come back when I'm in a place I don't know.

"Stay behind me, if you would," King Caspian offers. I guess Nikki's worry seeped into his mind too.

I have to fight the sudden urge to cling to him, the sudden craving for the simple closeness in an embrace. Where did that come from? It's not like me, not as far as I can remember. I don't need any man, right? Then why do I suddenly just want to be with the king, especially when I have no right whatsoever to even be in his presence. The only reason I am is because he wishes me to be.

The path starts to incline, and I'm grateful for the distraction that this added challenge for my lack of coordination poses – it keeps my mind off the king. Even with help, I can't help but stumble and fall several times. I'm still a little weak and without a vast supply of energy. So I don't really protest all that much when Caspian just picks me up like I weigh nothing.

Well, I protest as much as I have energy for, but that isn't much. I don't want his help really. Why would a king help me? I have to remind myself that he did say he cared about me. Or rather, care**s** – plural tense. Using the past implies we have a history, which I am almost completely certain we do not.

It occurs to me as the party continues up the path that I'm much more receptive to the king at night. Or perhaps more accurately, right after the snake visits. When I'm most vulnerable, perhaps? And I don't know if this is a good thing…or a bad thing.

But wouldn't needing someone be bad? Because what happens if something happens to them? What then? No, it's far better not to need anyone. But I'm just frail enough to still need physical help, but maybe I can start learning to deal with the snake on my own. But it hurts so much…

"Laurah!"

The king's and Nikki's simultaneous call startle me a bit, because I was so buried in thought. I look up questioningly, asking why they needed me.

"You were starting to tremble, chica. We were just making sure you're okay is all. Though you might want to just look at the ground now, we're coming up on that thing you might not want to see."

I oblige, casting my gaze down to the path, King Caspian's boots occasionally entering my line of vision. In spite of myself, I can't help but wonder if it's a statue of a snake. The dirt path turns to a stone one, though the roots stretching themselves over the walkway don't change. I'm tempted to look up, but I manage to stop myself. If it is a snake, I don't want to know. Or even if I do, I can't know right now, not with Nikki and the king here.

We continue on, and then Nikki tells me it's alright now, just don't look behind us. I don't. Well, I'm a little more interested in what's in front of me at the moment. Beyond this somewhat-narrow doorway that King Caspian has to set me down to get through is a long table filled with impossible amounts of food. And at the end sit three very old men, covered in their own hair and dressed in tattered clothes, talking with a glowing young woman. She seems familiar, though I can't place it. But I know I've seen her before.

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><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

The Lords of Meditation and Liliandil look up as our little party comes on in. Some of us, myself included, head straight for the best part of this entire island – the food. Caspian starts off in the direction of the four, and I have to grab a very firm apple just in case. Hey, sometimes one smack isn't enough.

I'm pleased to see that Caspian seems mostly past the initial adoring puppy-dog stage of meeting a star, and their conversation is almost to brief to be called anything other than a cordial exchange. His Royal Hineyness goes over to the Meditation Dudes, no doubt to ask if they learned yoga here as well.

Laurah sticks right by me, looking afraid for all the new things here. But still, she is getting better. I do need to remember that from time to time. And I don't know why the phrase 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth' just popped into my head, but it did. Why would anyone want to look in horse's mouth anyway? I mean, just a dog's mouth is plain and simple **nasty**. Imagine a horse's, with the fermented hay and strange-smelling grain stuck in their teeth…not a pleasant whiff to get in the face.

I break from my strange meditations on the smelliness of animal mouths to realize that Laurah probably would appreciate a little explaining. After all, she is looking so confused and unsure. So I start off on the long story.

"Alrighty chica, this might be a lot to take in, but kindly bear with me. Okay, so the whole reason Caspian and crew are out at this neck of the woods – or water, as the case may be – is because they were on a mission. Kind of like Mission Impossible, but minus the secret agents and Ethan Hunt sexiness. But anyway, they were trying to find the Seven Lords of Telmar…"

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><p><strong>I need to bring back my love of cliffies...I miss them and cackling at my computer about my evilness! :P Haha so I shall endeavour to bring those lovely things back for you ;)<strong>

**And I'm sorry to say that I, at the moment, have NO willpower whatsoever :P So please forgive me if the next chapter is a day or so late...However, reviews do help :P**

**Leave some feedback if you can! (Though if you're busy figuring out the next ingenious Starbucks frappucchino flavour, please use your time for that instead XD) Hehe review! :)**


	21. Chapter 20

**Okay, so as is pretty apparent I'm sure, February was my breathing month. XD I did win my unofficial NaNo, if any of you were wondering, with 34 minutes to spare! :D So that was great! And now in March is my unofficla Script Frenzy, aka Screnzy. So yes, another period of slow updates...and it'll be the same in April, because I'm rewriting my November NaNo story. May should be a little better, even though I have AP exams, senior exams, graduation, and general chaos. :P June is editing my NaNo story and maybe an unofficial NaNo to finish this story up ;) **

**But for the next book after this! There will be a third one, rest assured. BUT, and this is kind of important to note: I won't post it until I'm at least halfway through with writing it, so you all don't have to sit through erratic updating. So it may take a while to be posted, but it will come ;)**

**Now that all that's taken care of! Um, business as usual, I suppose XD**

**Gentle Blossom - Yep, baby steps, baby steps ;) And of course MopMan and Nikki! XD They do perk me up after a long day of calculus homework XD  
>So would I! I mean, coffee is basically life in my world! :P<br>And I know, but I'm nothing is not evil! Haha in the best possible way...**

**Garideth - Hahaha! Moral of the story, don't read the Nikki snippets in public! XD  
>Oh no, you're definitely not the only one! I happen to be one me-self :) Aw, but I'm glad you're enjoying Nikki! Haha and yes, young love...or is it? ;)<br>Haha, oh you make me laugh! XD But don't worry, baby steps ;) Slowly but surely...all shall be well...possibly XD (I generally don't actually like happily ever afters too much)  
>But yes, the cliffies...though actually, this chapter might not qualify...eh, you can decide ;)<strong>

**Guest - He does seem to be, doesn't he? (Hm, I may have to do something about that...:}) But as for Laurah, we can keep her inching along ;)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

When I finally, at long last, finish my summarized explanation of what Caspian, Ed, and Lucy all explained to me when I first came on board, Laurah's eyes look about ready to glaze over. I don't blame her – it's not exactly the most interesting thing in the world to be debriefed if there aren't any attractive government guys to drool over while listening.

She must notice my noticing her zoned-out look, because she jolts back to the now and shrugs apologetically, smiling a little sheepishly.

"No worries chica, it wasn't overly fascinating, I know. But like I said, best you know exactly what the deal is around here. Now I don't know about you, but all this has made me hungry enough to eat a camel, fur and all!" Without further ado, I dive in and help myself to a plate piled high with food. See, on the ship food is a little scarce, but here…it's a dream come true! Seriously, I could have my fairy godmother show up any minute.

"Why don't you have a little somethin' too? I know you can't eat stuff that's too rich just yet, but maybe some fruit or something would be okay? And it'll be nicer than eating just bread for the next few months, guaranteed."

Smiling dubiously, she starts to inch away, but then changes her mind. I'm happy when she slowly sits down beside me and puts a little food on her plate. Nothing elaborate or extraordinary – a few grapes, an apple, some chunks of pineapple – but it's better than nothing.

"Hungry, miss?"

"Drop the miss or I'll drop a frying pan on you."

"How rude!"

"Get over it." I grin as MopMan comes and sits on my other side, mouth a little stained form the juice of the berries he must have been eating. "You've got some stains on your face, man. Berries?"

"How very observant of you, miss. And yes indeed; blackberries to be exact."

"Wait…you ate a phone?"

"What is this 'phone' you speak of?"

"Uh…do you seriously not know- oh right, this is Narnia. A phone is a way of talking to people not close by via the magic of digital intelligence." That didn't make sense even to me, but hey, he'll never know the difference.

His hopelessly confused expression amuses me, and so I can't help but snort at his bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, but your…face…!" I giggle, my shoulders shaking with mirth as my head flings itself back.

"I am glad it amuses you," he drawls, practically drooling sarcasm.

Hm, that's an interesting picture – MopMan drooling sarcasm, literally. I mean, what would sarcastic drool even look like? And I can't resist sharing this latest dilemma with Laurah, who almost cracks a chuckle. Not bad, considering.

My gaze briefly flits over to where Caspian, Liliandil, and the 3 Lords of Meditation are still chit-chatting, albeit a bit seriously. I'm hoping he and Laurah can spend some more time together today, but right now he still looks a bit busy. Why the desire to see the two of them together? Because I think it's good for her, and she seems to warm up to him more each time.

"Hey, what would sarcastic drool look like, MopMan?"

"Sarcastic…drool? On an animal or a human?"

"Either one. I mean, sarcasm is usually only for words, but that's droolism. You know, like discrimination against drool just because it's drool. Not cool, man!"

"Isn't sarcasm only for the spoken word, miss?"

"Call me that again and I swear I'll smack you upside the head. Anyway, I just covered that. Assuming such a thing is droolism and hence inexcusable." I notice Laurah observing and following this little exchange on the properties of drool with an amused and light-hearted eye. Good.

"Why does it seem to me that you just now invented the word 'droolism?'"

"Mayhaps because you actually have a brain that you use, on occasion. Well, in this one instance at least. Now on a regular basis…that's up for argument."

"Oh? May I ask why?"

"Sure, and I'll answer you too. Now that's a deal worthy of a blue-light special!"

"Then why?" MopMan asks, ignoring my blue-light special comment as yet another phrase he just doesn't understand.

"Because men, no offense, aren't known to be the brightest creatures. See, you all are prone to a thing called 'guy stupid.' It happens to a lot of guys. They'll say or do something that really pisses off a girl, and then they wonder what in the name of pretzels they did wrong, when the girl is crying in a corner about it - or ripping his head off. It's those little moments when they just don't get how sensitive we desert flowers are."

"Desert flowers?"

"Yeah, beautiful exceptions to the parching and drought-ridden existence of mankind called life. Well, said existence without coffee. Now that, my friend, is an existence worthy of only the lowest of life forms, such as rocks."

"I do not think rocks are alive, Nikki."

"Yeah they are! At least somewhat. Have you never heard 'Colors of the Wind' sung by Pocahontas?!"

"I fear I have not. But please, do enlighten me."

"It'd take years to pull off such a feat," I smirk, patting his shoulder like I'm sorry for his plight.

A soft giggle comes from my other side, and I sling an arm around Laurah's shoulders in camaraderie.

"You understand the struggles we women must face, and why we are desert flowers and why we are brighter in intellect and general common sense than men, yes?" I chirp, shooting MopMan a celebratory look because I'm winning this argument.

She nods vigorously, grinning almost as smugly as me at MopMan, who is stuttering to come up with a response.

Just then, I notice Caspian coming over and have to wave very ridiculous-like. I'm feeling silly right now. Thank heaven no one's offered me something alcoholic!

"Ah, Cas my dear little munchkin, we were just discussing the superiority of the sexes. Care to join the delightful conversation?"

"I beg your pardon?" he mumbles, looking wary and yet amused.

"C'mon, it's making Laurah happy. And we're winning, so prepare yourself."

Hesitantly, he sits – next to Laurah of course. He looks like he'll have no idea how to counter. My evil twin is smirking and cackling in glee. I do so love to pull the wool over people's eyes from time to time!

"Forgive my lack of inspiring speeches, Nikki, but I simply did not imagine you to be the type to say men are the superior sex."

"Why you-!" I start, putting up my fists like I'm about to get in a fight.

"Certainly I don't fault you for thinking so, I just didn't expect you to acknowledge it so openly." He's smirking under that fuzzy beard of his, and for a moment I have to wonder why I didn't decide to carry that frying pan around with me for situations exactly like this.

"You, you silly diluted king you, are **sorely **mistaken. It is the desert flowers of the human race who are superior!"

"The desert flowers? I do not think most men would take kindly to being called 'desert flowers.'"

"Shut your trap and listen to me! Stop twisting my words, you gosh dang politician you! Now, you've got it all backwards," I begin, only to be cut off my Cas again.

"How is it I manage to be both a king and a politician?"

"You have an evil twin. Now, as I was saying-" I try to continue, but I'm cut off **again**.

"I am quite certain that any evil twin of mine couldn't possibly be hidden for so long, so I must not have one."

"Before I point out all the logical fallacies in that statement, let me first impress upon you that-"

"Ah, so you were taught the logical fallacies. Rest assured, friend, that there were none in what I just said."

"I will not rest assured, Caspian, if you don't shush your mouth and let me talk!"

"But I do think you've spoken quite your share and more thus far. Perhaps it's time for you to relax and stop talking for a little while."

"Caspian, I swear to you, if you don't shut up, I'll knock you into silence with a frying pan!"

"Ah, but all frying pans are back on board the ship," MopMan cuts in with a grin, looking very self-satisfied.

"Is that so? Well I'm sure this would do fine!" I fire back, lunging for a heavy-looking tray that's now empty.

"Violence is forbidden here, is it not?" Caspian retorts, though he is looking a touch uneasy.

"Then may lightning strike me dead. In the meantime, while we're waiting…" I pounce for the two men, Caspian first since he's the main source of my trouble. What I don't see is the scrap of orange still in the tray.

So when an orange piece smacks into his face and Laurah giggles at the amusing sight, I naturally don't expect either of the two to happen. I'm perplexed, because the massive tray is blocking my view.

"What gives? What's so…Oh!" I laugh too as I see the fruit stuck to Caspian's mustache, naturally lending the king a more than amusing facial expression and decoration.

"Well, orange isn't really your color, but I guess we can make it work," I wheedle in my best sickly-sweet voice.

Caspian looks a little horrified and MopMan is trying to hold in his snorts.

"You, MopMan, sound like a hungry little piggy," I sniff imperiously, sticking my nose up in the air until my neck hurts from being elongated to such an extreme. Naturally, Laurah is quite amused with this whole scene, and so of course I only try to weasel a little more fun out of it.

"You know, I've always wanted a good food fight." Gently placing the tray back on the table, I bring my fingers together and adopt a pensive expression, as if I'm genuinely considering some life-changing decision or something of the like. A perked-up, silent 'please' from my best friend are all I need.

"I do apologize in advance for any inconvenience, but…" Having given the disclaimer, I scoop up a handful of the first thing I can reach – cream puffs by the look of it – and chuck them at MopMan and Caspian both, machine gun style.

For a moment, they're both shocked. Especially MopMan, who, as luck would have it, has three of the wee devils wedged in his mouth, working like a sort of gag that keeps him from talking. Not enough to choke him, naturally, but enough for the comedic relief to amuse us all – in particular, us girls. Caspian, on the other hand, has one stuck to his shirt and cream smeared on one cheek and another stuck on his nose. Hey, he's like Rudolph the Cream-Puff-Nosed Reindeer!

Still giggling, Laurah stands and goes over to Caspian. Wait…wow. Well dang, she IS getting better! Though my glee threatens to overtake me, I manage to keep enough control over myself to watch quietly as she goes up and, smirking, takes the cream puff from his nose and holds it to his lips. After looking up at her a moment, Caspian opens his mouth and the cutiful moment is complete.

"I'll be right back," I whisper to MopMan, scurrying out of the room for a quick few seconds so I can whoop and cheer and dance around crazily.

* * *

><p><strong>Laurah POV:<strong>

That was a stupid thing to do. I don't really know what came over me. Maybe there was just too much silliness and I lost my head for a moment or two. Either way, I can't say I don't regret it. But still, the memory of the slight brush of his lips on my fingertips isn't one I can banish easily from my thoughts.

I suppose one should expect a king's lips to be soft, but it still surprised me. Or perhaps what surprised me was my own nerve, or maybe how he didn't pull away or call me strange. But it felt nice, for the moment I was out of my head. I don't claim to have all my sanity intact, but common sense should have at least some fragment of my mind. Still, I will admit to being spellbound for a moment.

Dazzled by my own ludicrousness or by the king, who's to say? But I froze in place as the king looked right into my eyes, and I have yet to meet his gaze, constant though it is. I'm aware of it even now. It hasn't left me since that moment of stupidity. What must he be thinking, of me, of that? It must have been so far beyond my place it's past the point of measurement.

I can't decide whether to force an apology out through my lips or act as if it never happened. Naturally, I'm inclined toward the latter. It would be the easier of the two if I could just stop thinking about it. My face turns beet red whenever I do. As well it should, too! Though if it's red from shame or from something else, I can't tell.

Oh gods, he's coming over to me now. I don't need to see his advance to know he's approaching me. I can sense him, sense how his gaze is getting closer to me. I still can't meet it, can't meet his eyes. His hand rests gently on my shoulder, as if he's asking permission to simply be near me, or maybe just speak with me. I'm a little worried as to what he might say, but I nod my assent. He is the king after all.

"You have nothing to be sorry for or ashamed of."

Whatever I was expecting, that wasn't it. And I don't know what to do in response. Should I stay silent and unmoving? Should I nod slightly to show I understand? Or should I shake my head, let him know that I don't agree? What would be respectful and what would be out of place?

"Please, do not deceive me. Simply act on what you feel, and do not worry about the propriety of it."

Well, I can't deny the king. So I do shake my head, and cast my eyes down so I won't have to meet his. I'm ashamed again, but gentle fingers lift my chin so I can't keep looking down. I try to gently wriggle myself free, but the king's fingers are firm in their gentleness. I have no choice but to meet his eyes, now that he's come around to crouch in front of me.

My eyes dart around, looking anywhere but his brown ones. I've heard the eyes are the windows to the soul. If that's true, I certainly don't want him to look in mine. I'm certain my soul is every bit as hideous as the rest of me.

"You can't even meet the eyes of a friend?" His voice could be accusatory, but it's not – only sad.

No, I can't meet the eyes of a king. I can't meet the eyes of someone I owe so much already, and someone so inexplicably connected to me. Yes, I will recognize that there's more to us than it seems. We have some sort of history, we must, for him to act like this. What is it? Why can't he tell me? Why do I have no memory of whatever history we share?

But I can't avoid his gaze forever, so I finally submit to it. And I know he sees everything, every last ounce of my madness and everything else there may be to me. I can't help but wonder if he sees the snake in my eyes. If he does, he gives no indication of it.

I'm relieved when he finally releases my chin. Naturally, I look away as soon as I can, though I don't miss the slight sigh that comes from the king. Well, I hear it more than see it – my eyes are focused on the floor, with his boots making an appearance as well.

He leaves then, just as Nikki comes back. A glance up shows me that she's grinning like the Cheshire cat, though I can't really imagine why. So I roll my eyes and shrug at her cheeky nudge on the shoulder, returning my concentration to getting a few bites of the fruit on my plate down my throat so she'll be happy.

* * *

><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

Well, it doesn't look like I missed much while I was out doing my happy dance. Caspian looks much the same…wait, no he doesn't. He looks a little down on himself now. Man, they can't have two minutes of normal-ness?

I don't stop my shoulders from sagging a little in slight frustration, because I, quite frankly, am starved for a little peace and happiness here. But patience is key, as I'm sure anyone listening to me ramble on in my head would agree. And I frown sourly at this thought because, as karma would have it, it rhymed. Which is so annoyingly annoying that I am sorely tempted to bonk my own head with the tray I was threatening the boys with.

In any case, I decide I'm going to find out what's bugging Caspian in particular, just to see if we can fix it. After all, he's been through enough, right?

"Hey, Cas. Wanna talk about it?" I ask as I come up next to the guy. He looks up from studying the table looking, to put it in Pride & Prejudice terms, very ill indeed.

I take the slight shrug of his royal shoulders as a yes, and hence begin the little-sister-style badgering.

"Alright then, let's hear it. What's the bad apple in this bunch? Which fishy in the kettle is irking you?" I rephrase these questions when his only answer is eyebrows raised inches up his forehead. "What's bothering you?"

"May we discuss this in private?" Since he turns and makes his way out to the balcony that used to look out at Dark Island, I have to scamper along quickly to keep up. I don't know if anyone else has noticed this, but this guy takes really long strides. As in at least 1.5 times as long as the average man's. Seriously, keeping up with this guy is a cardio workout on its own!

"Would Your Royal Highness mind slowing down a bit?!" I huff, puffing like I'm sorely out of shape. Which I'm not! I mean, dancing is tough and it gets one in shape quite quickly.

Cas slows down a little, grinning slightly. I'm about to point out to him that it didn't get to his eyes, but I'm sure he's gonna explain the whole kettle of worms in a minute. Wait, isn't the saying 'kettle of fish'? And then the worm one is 'can of worms.' Oops.

"Thanks, Mister Long-Legs. You know, if you were a woman and not a man, you'd probably be a model back home," I quip, content in my random babblings.

Cas must really be feeling down, because he only gives me a confused look, one of his eyebrows climbing his forehead, without saying anything. Alright, so I'll hush for now, give the poor man a break.

In no time at all, because of Caspian's aforementioned long strides, we're out of everyone's earshot and looking out at where Dark Island used to be. Wow, I just realized that the name 'Dark Island' sounds more than a little cliché. Thank goodness I didn't come up with it, else I'd be horribly ashamed of myself.

"Alright Cas, what's botherin' ya? Spill the beans."

"I do not think you have to guess who it's related to."

"Of course not, I'm not a total idiot."

Silence stretches out, and my patience starts to wane. Can he not just spit it out already? I'll even get him a spittoon if he so pleases.

"Come on Cas, just spit it out. Get it off your chest, man."

"She will never be the same. Will she?"

Well dang it, I don't know how to respond to that.

"Well…sure, she won't be the same, just like I'll never be the same for having been to Narnia, and you were never the same for having met her, etc. But I do think she'll get better. She doesn't need to go back to who she was as you last knew her for her to be okay again, yes?"

He hesitates, the doubt drawing countless lines on his face.

"I suppose…"

"Uh uh, no supposing. Trust me, I know this girl inside, out, and backwards. She'll be fine, we just have to be patient. Aslan himself said she'll be okay, right?"

Cas still isn't convinced, I can tell.

"Come now, she can't stay crazy forever. Chin up," I chirp, demonstrating a hopeful smile.

"How can you be sure?" he whispers, staring out at where Dark Island used to be.

"Caspian, look at me," I command, resorting to turning him to face me myself, since he doesn't at first. "Now, you love Laurah, yes?"

"More than anything."

"Then you've got to have a little faith. We've only had her for what, a few days? And she could have been in there for weeks. You follow?" At his nod, I ramble on. "Great. Now let's just keep an optimistic view on everything, at least until we leave Coriakin's Island, okie dokie? If for some reason he can't help her, then we can get all depressed and hopeless. Does that sound fair?"

"You are wise beyond your years, Nikki," Caspian says with a smile, perking up after my little pick-up pep talk.

"Hey, I'm not THAT much younger than you, buddy," I tease. "Three years tops."

"I believe it's four, my friend."

"Well I think it's three. Anyway, shall we get back to chatting up the newly awakened Lords of Meditation?"

"Nikki, how many times must I remind you they are Lords of TELMAR?" Caspian chuckles dryly as we mosey on back to the room of food.

"Apparently, too many to count," I reply, smirking.

When we get back, it looks like everyone's clearing out. The Lords are gone, as well as most of the crew members that had been hanging out enjoying the delectable yummzies sitting on the table. Only the good Captain, Sadrian, and a few others I don't know are still here.

"Aw, are we leaving already?" I whine as I go over to Laurah.

"I'm afraid we must. Coriakin's Island is almost a month's sailing from here."

I almost choke on the slice of bread I'd been eating. Hacking very ungracefully, I splutter out, "Tell me you're joking!"

"Is sailing truly so disagreeable?" Sadrian smirks.

"Only when I'm on a ship with you," I bite back, sarcastically of course.

"You wound me, milady!" he moans, doing a truly Shakespeare-worthy reenactment of being stabbed in the heart.

"I am crushed."

"Oh, my poor heart!" he cries, falling to the ground.

"Touching. Now, are we heading out as well, or what?" I address the question to the good Captain. Okay, it's seriously weird, there being a captain that ISN'T named Captain Sparrow…

"If his Majesty wishes, Miss Nikki."

"Well?" I turn to Caspian, holding back an impish grin when I see him standing next to Laurah – as close as he dares.

"Captain, do we have the provisions we need to reach Coriakin's Island?"

"We can sail with the wind, Your Highness."

With a nod, Caspian starts to lead the rest of us out of the room. I turn around to say goodbye to Liliandil, but I suddenly realize I haven't seen her since Cas and I had that little pep talk.

"Um, hey y'all? Where's Liliandil?"

The men turn around, looking puzzled.

"For once, Nikki, you have a very good question," MopMan answers.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," I comment dryly, still wanting to say goodbye to the star. After all, it'd be rude to leave without so much as a 'Bye, thanks for the yummy food,' wouldn't it?

"Any constructive comments, MopMan?"

"Other than a conversation between Liliandil and myself regarding Narnia? No."

"And how would that be relevant?" It flits across my mind that maybe MopMan, in all his silliness, is trying to make me jealous, but the thought has so little substance I dismiss it with a silent laugh. MopMan may love to annoy me, but I've known the guy for less than a week, for crying out loud!

"It may not be, but perhaps it would be worth mentioning that the lady expressed a strong desire to see Narnia for herself."

"And translated into common English, that would mean…?" I ask, still not seeing what MopMan's getting at.

"Perhaps she went with the crew, at least to get a glimpse of the ship?" Caspian answers, though I think he's guessing as much as I would be.

"Oh, that sorta makes sense, I guess," I mumble. I would actually like to say all the necessary goodbyes and get a move on, because as much as I love the food here, I'd like my best friend back just a little more. Okay, okay, a lot more. I don't love food THAT much.

"Back to the ship then, Your Majesty?" MopMan asks.

"Yes," responds 'His Majesty,' leading the way back to the beach, and then to the remaining longboat.

"I am so not oaring, just for the record!" I squeak, noting with slight panic the scarcity of numbers. But I think there are still enough men to do the rowing…not that I like men doing everything for me, but hey, what girl doesn't enjoy some good old-fashioned chivalry?

"Were you not a lady, I would be sorely tempted to force you to do so, simply for the hilarity of it," snorts MopMan, smirking for all he's worth. "But seeing as how you ARE in fact a woman, I fear I can't have the satisfaction.

"Of course I'm a girl, you pipsqueak! What do I look like, a fish?"

"I would say more of a steamed lobster, such as now, when your face turns a rather bright shade of red, but I suppose fish would work as well, if it is your ladyship's pleasure." MopMan punctuates this with a mocking bow, which I promptly clunk him on the back of his noggin for. I can't help but snigger a bit as he falls face-first onto the sand.

"I do apologize for my giggles, but that was rather funny."

"I take great comfort in knowing it was amusing to someone," he replies wryly, spitting out sand and glowering at my amused little self.

"'Twas indeed. Now let's get a move on, yeah?" I'm such a sucker though, so I help the guy up. I'm not completely heartless…I do expect MopMan to pull me down with him thought. But surprisingly, he's found some humanity. Hm, maybe that adage about guys being five years mentally younger than girls is only half true. Nah, he'll get his revenge later. Seriously, I'd bet a mocha frappucchino on it!

"Are you both ready to leave?" Caspian asks dryly, almost looking ready to roll his eyes.

I don't miss Laurah's small expression of amusement, and for a moment she almost looks like her old self. It occurs to me that she hasn't made a move to come over to me yet, which I interpret as a very good thing. Hey, if she's feeling a bit more independent, that's fantastic! And the fact that she seems as content to be in Caspian's presence as she is mine, well, that's cause for a whole freaking fireworks show! If I had some of those puppies, that is.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," MopMan says, "I believe we are."

As the whole party starts off, I can't resist turning to tease MopMan a bit. "Two words now come to my mind, dear MopMan: 'brown' and 'nosed'."

"How very amusing, Miss Nikki."

"Ease up, muchacho, I'm just messin' with ya," I say with a grin.

"And I am doing the same to you," he chuckles, apparently still somewhat enjoying my sarcasm.

"Thank you for stating the readily obvious," I drawl as I follow everyone down the path.

The rest of the hike back down to the beach passes in much the same way – the occasional dry comment from MopMan, a sassy response from me, and the very frequent stumbles on roots and rocks. In fact, the boat ride back is pretty similar as well, without the tripping part. But I do get to sit next to Laurah, since the boys are sweet enough to do the rowing. Again I say, ya gotta love chivalry!

Once we're finally back on the _Dawn Treader_, I can't help but scurry over to Caspian to ask a quick question.

"Hey, Cas? How far is it to Coriakin's Island from here?"

"It depends on the wind."

"Well assuming best-case scenario, a rough estimate would be…"

"Perhaps a week, maybe two," he answers quietly. It almost seems like he's worried something will slow us down.

"And worst-case scenario?" I press on. I'm anxious to get Laurah's head all straightened out. She was abnormally robotic on the boat ride here. I don't like it one bit – a quick glance her way proves she's still more 'off' than usual. She's eyeing something, though I can't tell what. Whatever it is, something is bugging her, and it's putting me on edge.

"Hey MopMan!" I call.

More obediently than usual, he trots on over, probably picking up on the edge in my voice.

"Keep an eye on her for me? Just for a minute."

He nods his assent, and I make a mental note to get him a frappucchino, or the equivalent thereof, later.

"Anyway, worst case?" I ask, looking at Laurah, who's still eyeing something – wait, she's eyeing…I don't believe it. Unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, and I'm almost sure they're not…she's been looking at the dagger strapped to MopMan's waist. Technically, any dagger in sight.

With an uneasy glance past me and at his fiancée, Caspian has only two words for me.

"Too long."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, finally got that chapter finished...month-long writer's block from post-NaNo relaxation isn't always the greatest XD<strong>

**And I think that's actually all I have to say...**

**Review please :)**


	22. Chapter 21

**Four long months, and I'm incredibly sorry about that. Once April's Camp NaNo hit, life got so crazy I forgot my own name sometimes XD But as far as this series goes: don't worry, I haven't abandoned it. There's another Camp NaNo next month, in July, and I'm writing book 3 for that. I'll finish this story once book 3 is done, but I won't be posting anything until I've finished both the remainder of this one and the entirety of book 3. So you can be sure it'll be at least 2 months before the next update, but check back once in a while just in case. I might post the last few chapters of this as I finish them, if you all don't want to wait as long as 2 or 3 months. We'll see...let me know if you care either way XD If everyone seems to be pleading for me to at least post the rest of book 2 the minute I finish it, I might do that. In penance for the 4 months :P**

**Thank you to Evy201 and NymphadoraLupin98 for the loyal reviewing for each chapter! (I'll be responding to reviews via messaging from now on) Love to all my readers, followers, and especially reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: I'm just gonna say it now, and it'll cover the rest of the dang story...Narnia and its characters belong to CS Lewis. I only own the original plot and original characters. And please take note of that, because I won't say it again XD**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

This is taking far too long. Two weeks we've been sailing the ocean blue and, in my case, singing about Christopher Columbus, and still no Coriakin's Island. Now I don't claim to be an everlasting fountain of patience, but I generally try to have some semblance of said virtue. But my patience is waning, like a writer's sanity without coffee. Or caffeine. Or sugar. In other words, at this point in time, Nikki Stevens is not a patient woman.

About the only good thing to happen so far is finding Lilliandil on board. Apparently she got permission from her daddy to go out and see the world of Narnia, or something like that. In any case, she's been helpful, trying to prod Laurah's missing memories and whatnot. She's a bit formal still, but she's a good friend to all of us. However, this isn't enough to lighten my mood. At all.

Laurah, to put it nicely, hasn't improved much. Putting it bluntly, she's gotten worse, and I'm frustrated and out of ideas. And coffee. But I haven't had that anyway.

"Still brooding, miss?" MopMan trots up next to me, nudging my shoulder like a concerned yet silly brother would. I resist the urge to smack him lightly on the side of the head. I'm not really in a joking mood at the moment.

"You would be too, chiquito."

"Come now, things will look up soon."

"Easy for you to say…" I mumble, my sour mood coming through a little more than I intended. I'm unusually short today, probably because Laurah's been more distant then usual since yesterday. I've barely seen her at all – she's taken to spending lots of alone time in the cabin, even locking the door so no one can get in.

"We will be at Coriakin's Island soon, Nikki. In a day or two, certainly."

"At this point, we could get there today and it wouldn't be soon enough."

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"Have you told His Majesty your concerns?"

"He worries enough without my input."

MopMan doesn't say anything after that, just puts his hand on mine.

I smile crookedly, trying to draw at least a little comfort from that. Still, I'm out of patience.

"How is she?" Caspian appears on the other side of me, looking as worried as I'm agitated. Still, for his sake I force out a sugar-coated summary.

"Not much better."

"Put more accurately?"

Damn it. "…"

"Ah."

The silence is grating on my nerves, which are just about shot.

"Well, I'm going to see if she'll let me in right now," I blurt out, walking toward the cabin.

"I'll come with you," Caspian states more than asks, which only aggravates me more. I'd spare the lovebird the pain if I could.

"Suit yourself," I mumble. I could really use a good Starbucks drink right now…actually, what I could really use is a little proof of hope.

Not waiting for Cas to be a gentleman and open the door, I try the handle myself. Not surprisingly, it's locked. Nope. That's not gonna happen today. I've had enough. So without hesitation, I back up and slam against the door. Luckily for the door, the locks breaks on the first try, so I don't have to tear it down.

I waste no time in striding inside, ready to find out exactly what's going on in Laurah's head. Suddenly I screech to a halt, my eyes nearly bugging out of my head.

"Oh my god, what is this? What the hell is this?!" I half-scream, half-whisper, frozen in my tracks. What is going on here?!

Laurah freezes, fear covering her like a shroud. She tries to shrink away, but I'm in front of her in milliseconds, grabbing her arm and wrenching the dagger from her grip. I'm trembling, though if it's from anger or hurt, I'm not sure. What the hell!?

"Laurah, what-" Caspian stops mid-syllable, and I can tell just by the silence that he looks like he's been punched in the gut. I feel kind of that way myself – except I'm angry too.

Somehow, I find it in me to release her arm, though my gaze is fixed to her other one. Caspian flies forward, his hands instantly searching for any broken skin. I wish I could be that loving. I'm too angry. I barely notice that nothing's on her arm.

Without another word, I storm out, slamming the door on my way out. I can understand her being depressed, sad, all of that. But this…no! NO! In my anger, I draw my arm back and hurl the dagger in my hand into the ocean. How did she even get this is what I would like to know!

"Nikki, what's the matter?!" Sadrian rushes up beside me, all trade-mark joking gone.

I shake my head, no words coming to me. How am I supposed to say something like this out loud? I can't.

"Whatever it is, it'll be alright," he says, trying to soothe me.

My lip curls in anger at that. How is any of this alright?!

"Hey, it's going to be okay, understand?" Without waiting for any sort of confirmation from me, Sadrian – MopMan – pulls me into a gentle hug, forcing me to relax.

I take in a shaky lungful of air as I let him comfort me. I don't notice I'm crying until I see a wet spot growing on his shirt under my cheek.

"I'm getting your shirt wet," I mumble, though I don't really make a move to step away.

"My shirt is of little concern right now," he replies, tentatively putting a hand on the back of my head. He hugs me until I calm down and my tears are dried, and it occurs to me that he's kind of a good hugger. You know, not strangling me and not treating me like an eggshell either – gentle but firm. A rather good hugger indeed.

"You hug nice."

"Erm…thank you?"

"Yeah, it's a compliment, genius."

"I did say thank you."

"You're welcome, MopMan."

He lets me go, swiping the last of my tears from my face. Letting out a tiny chuckle, he pokes my nose.

"I do believe your nose is red, Nikki."

"Yeah, that tends to happen when peeps cry."

"Peeps?"

"Short for people, in my lingo."

More silence follows, and then it occurs to me that Caspian is still inside. It also occurs to me that maybe I should go apologize for flipping out so badly.

"I should probably go back in there…"

"I would recommend only going back if you can control your anger."

"I can. I'm more sorry than angry, I think."

After a deep, calming, zen-restoring breath, I start off for the cabin again, ignoring the temptation to flare up again. I'm really moving too fast today, and I'm doing too much reacting as opposed to calming. I'll have to say something to that effect I suppose, and…oh goodness, what can I say? I snapped and yelled at my best friend when she probably needed me the most. What apology is going to make up for that?

I almost chicken out even as my hand closes around the doorknob, but I swallow everything I'm feeling at the moment. I can wallow in anger and wishy-washy-ness after I've convinced Laurah that I won't shun her for the rest of both our lives. Or one of our lives, since it'd be kind of hard to shun her if one of us was dead, because then it'd be kind of a given we wouldn't be on regular communication, and…I have no idea what I'm saying. Go figure.

When I finally force myself to open the door and walk in, my apology is ready on my lips. I know exactly what I'm going to say, but for the second freaking time today, I stop cold. Laurah actually looks…strong. Granted, that may only be because she's kind of glaring at me, but hey, I'll take what I can get. There she sits, on the edge of the bed next to Caspian, her hand in his and her eyes boring into mine. Caspian's looking at her cautiously, arm gently around her waist – ever the kindly one.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I was just surprised, and I freaked. But I am sorry, because you didn't need that from me." Okay, so not exactly the apology I'd been planning, but it still got my point across.

I stand there, holding my breath, waiting for a response of some sort. Not that I know what to expect anymore. After what could've been centuries of waiting, I finally see Laurah nod. The hard look in her eyes softens gradually, until there's nothing left but the helpless girl we're trying to get to Coriakin's Island. She looks like she wants to say something, so I walk closer to hear.

It turns out she still won't speak, but she does mouth something: 'I'm sorry.'

Some strangled sort of half-sob bubbles out of my mouth, and I have to clear my throat before I answer.

"It's alright, really. We're gonna get you all fixed up, you'll see." I sniffle back another sob-like sound. "Damn it to hell, now I sound like some garbled idiot choking on her own spit," I mumble half-heartedly.

The comment has the desired effect of bringing a tiny smile to Laurah's face, to which I respond with my own watery smile. I hesitantly walk over and sit on the other side of her, letting the silence settle in the room. Right now, I don't have any off-the-wall comments to offer – at the moment.

"Land ho!"

The sudden break in the quiet has Caspian and me both bolting to our feet and scrambling for the deck.

"They better be freaking serious about that 'land ho'!" I screech as we skitter to a halt at the edge of the deck, staring out at the open water.

Minutes pass, and while the ship is certainly alive with every activity, I don't see a darnded thing. Caspian steps back from the rail and goes off somewhere, but I stay to scrutinize the horizon for this sign of land so gloriously announced a bit ago. As more and more impatiently-counted minutes pass, I grow more than a little tired of looking at water and sky and no land.

"I don't see no land, y'all!"

"Um, Nikki?" MopMan taps me on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Perhaps the other deck will afford a better view."

"Other deck?"

Without a word, he tugs me over to the other side of the ship…where an island is clearly visible in the distance.

I sulk a minute while MopMan attempts, unsuccessfully, to swallow his smirk.

"Well no one said which side of the ship the little bugger was on!" I grumble quite loudly, crossing my arms over my chest in a rather unladylike pout.

"Someone just did, I believe," the mop-headed rascal counters.

I content myself with smacking the back of his head rather than a wry, dry, writhingly sarcastic remark. Sometimes a simple knock in the head is worth a hundred verbal nicks, especially with MopMan. Just then, a strange thought occurs to me.

"Hey, do you mind my calling you MopMan?" I tug on MopMan's – Sadrian's, whatever - sleeve as I ask this sudden question. Puzzlement as to this odd wonderment forms creases in my forehead as I glance sideways at him.

"If it pleases milady, how could I argue?" he responds with a goofy grin and a playfully-mocking bow.

"That wasn't the question!" I protest, actually caring for a real answer, strangely enough.

"And you wish for a serious answer?"

"It would seem so, wouldn't it?"

"The lady Nikki wishes a serious answer?" He suddenly rests his palm on my forehead, adopting a concerned expression.

"Erm, what in the name of fiddly-dee are you doing?" One eyebrow shoots halfway up my forehead as I regard that crazy guy with a perplexed and slightly wary look.

"Taking your temperature, which seems to indicate you are running a sky-high fever," he tuts with an expression a weirdo doctor might adopt with a patient diagnosed with Dori disorder. In other words, he's trying to look serious and not laugh in the midst of his little charade. Typical, in a fond sense of the word.

"In all seriousness, you silly thing, do you prefer MopMan or Sadrian?"

He lowers his hand from my temple and ditches the blooming smirk on his face for a normal smile.

"MopMan suits me perfectly fine, Nikki. If any conversations we had were serious, then perhaps Sadrian would do better. But until that day comes, MopMan raises no quarrels from me. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes. Thank you," I answer with a relieved grin. "I don't know why that question suddenly occurred to me, but I figured it'd be better to ask than not, ya know?"

"Then I thank you for your consideration," MopMan responds with a chuckle.

I nod my head in acknowledgement as I shift my gaze from the curly-haired goof beside me to Coriakin's Island.

"Hey, we're pretty close now! Oh, and where's mi chica de silliness?" I spin around in a circle before remembering Laurah's probably still in the cabin. That's right, Caspian and I bolted at the first 'Land ho.' Classic.

"Be right back, MopMan, gotta get my amiga." And I do just that.

When I make my way back into the cabin, I'm grateful to see Lilliandil has been looking after Laurah in the minutes since Cas and I've been gone.

"Thanks Lil."

She nods in that kindly and silent way she has and leaves us alone. As I said, she's formal but she's helpful. Non-intrusive too, so we get along quite well. Not that that's too relevant right now.

"Alright chica, shall we go? This Coriakin character is supposed to be able to help you a ton." When she balks at the unfamiliar name, I have to nonchalantly reassure her. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite, and me and Cas and Lil will be there the whole time. Come on now," I coax, gently but firmly leading her out onto the deck, and then to the longboats, or rowboats, whatever those things with the oars are called.

And we row our way to the island, with a bit of idle chatter but nothing really significant. Or maybe there is, I'm just too preoccupied to notice, or care really. At this precise moment, the only care I have is getting Laurah to this wizard guy so she can get better. Nothing else matters.

Eventually we pull up on the beach and start walking into a strange, woodsy-looking part of the island. Well, I use the term 'woods' loosely, because these trees are far too pruned to be wild and free-growing. And what is that thudding noise?

"Is there a giant, or a Cyclops nearby or something?" I call out nervously as the thumping gets closer.

"No indeed, miss. Those are Dufflepods," MopMan laughs, breaking the odd silence that's fallen over the group.

"Dufflepods? What the heck are those? A live version of Hostess cakes?"

"See for yourself what they are, Nikki; here they come!"

"Oh fantas- EEK!" I have to let loose a rather impressive shriek when I see these 'Dufflepods.' They're like little dwarves, but with a huge leg that they bounce around on, like kangaroos. They've got beards too, and they already can't shut up. Seriously, they make me, Nikki Stevens the Chatterbug, seem like a perfect lady of Victorian society! I can't even tell what they're saying, because they're all saying it at once and at different times.

"Oh for the love of god, can we just see Coriakin already?!" I holler, a little more impatiently and frustratedly than I perhaps should've. But come on, we're here to get Laurah on the roaring road to recovery, not listen to one-legged dwarves who can't button their lip!

"Nikki, please. Patience," Caspian chides over his royal shoulder.

"You be patient," I grumble. Those Dufflepod-things start a chorus of insults, of which I can understand about the first few syllables. Perfect. The little bastards have attitudes as well.

"I understand your frustration, Nikki, but please, just a few more minutes," MopMan croons into my ear in an attempt to soothe me. Oddly enough, I listen to him.

I'd rather like to yell again, but I put a lid on it, as per MopMan's request. Then I remember Laurah, and how she's actually here with us, and also how she must be on edge from these freakish things bouncing around the group of us on their thick, trunky little legs. Spinning in a circle, I look around the group for my friend. My heart almost stops when I don't see her.

"Um, people? Where. Is. Laurah?" Deep breaths, deep breaths, don't scream, don't yell.

Caspian whips around faster than I can even blink, eyes wide as saucers.

"I thought she was with you."

"I thought she was with YOU!" There goes the no screaming rule.

Just as Cas starts to open his mouth, probably in some expression of terrorized woe, MopMan tugs on my arm and forces me to turn around. Milliseconds before a host of insults escapes my lips, the group clears a path to Lilliandil – and Laurah's with her.

I take several more deep breaths, clutching at my heart and clearing my throat at least a dozen times. Lilliandil starts to explain I think, but I use the last ounce of self-control in me to tell her it's fine, we were just caught off guard, and can we just get to Coriakin's please. Thankfully, we're all marching onward then, and Cas and I both breathe a huge sigh of relief.

"King Caspian, you have returned," says a polite voice from somewhere up ahead...oh! There's an old guy there. Coriakin, maybe? Or do they have butlers here? Well, this bearded guy is wearing robes I'd hope to only see on a sorcerer, so maybe it is him.

"So are you Coriakin?" I pipe in, before anyone else has a chance to say anything.

"I am. I understand you need my help?" How, pray tell, does an old man manage to have such a silky-smooth voice?

"Erm, yeah. Well technically not me, but it sounds like you know what's up." Who told him though, that's what I'm wondering.

"I know less than you think. But please, come inside, all of you," Coriakin says, motioning for us to follow him into the ginormous mansion a little ways ahead.

I vaguely notice that the Dufflepods have finally learned the delicate art of shutting up, but I don't offer any comments about it. Honestly, I don't really care.

We enter the mansion, and I settle for twiddling my thumbs to contain my impatience. A hand slips into mine, and I turn around to smile reassuringly at Laurah. Her eyes are looking a bit clearer than usual, thanks to Lilliandil it seems, who's holding her other bony little hand.

"Almost there, chica," I whisper, though I think I'm trying to calm myself more than her.

At last, we all file into a library-looking room, where a book with jumbled letters for a title sits unceremoniously on a podium.

"So do you need a bit of background info before we get this party started?" I ask the magician, giving Laurah's hand a squeeze.

At his nod, Caspian and I take turns giving him the whole low-down, and he seems to know just what to do by the time we're done.

He gestures to Laurah and me, and tells us to follow him.

"Wait, can Cas and Lili come along too?" I ask. Just in case Laurah goes bonkers, it might be good to have them around.

At Coriakin's nod, the two of them follow me and Laurah into another room. Coriakin grabs the book with the jumbled-letter title and closes the door behind the four of us. I can't resist a small smile to see how quickly Caspian makes his way to Laurah's side. I guess he's worried, because she's been more detached than usual. Maybe it's the new place and people, I don't know. But it'll be for the best, I'm sure of it.

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><p><strong>Laurah POV:<strong>

I don't know what Nikki hopes to accomplish with this visit to an old man on an unfamiliar island. Everything is so strange, so different from the ship. I don't like it. I'm not fond of change, I suppose. But at least King Caspian is here next to me. He's comforting where Nikki's crypticness is not.

The old man comes up to me and tries to meet my eye, but I dart my glance away. I don't know him, and I don't like him, and I don't trust him. I don't like how he smells of magic. He's insistent though, and forces my chin back to face him and thereby forcing me to look at him. I wish he'd be more gentle, like Caspian is. I try to tug away, but Caspian and Lilliandil both put a hand on each of my shoulders. I shoot them both a glare, but they give me a firm look right back. So I let out a small huff and let the old man peer right into my eyes.

Whatever he sees, he doesn't like it. A bushy eyebrow wrinkles and he frowns. A touch of his rough finger on my forehead right between my eyes, and he backs away, muttering something under his breath that I can't quite catch. Nikki seems to understand though, and she walks over to Caspian and whispers something that he in turn whispers to Lilliandil. I don't like not being kept in the loop, but I guess I'm not in a great position to demand to know everything.

"What is your name, child?" the man asks, his back still to me.

I frown instantly at the invitation to speak. I haven't said a single syllable in weeks; what makes this old man think he can make me start now?

"Her name's Laurah."

A smile lifts the corners of my mouth as Nikki answers for me.

"I wished for her to speak, but thank you," the old man responds, now rifling through a stack of books as tall as he is.

"She's not too fond of talking, Coriakin. Hasn't been since we found her in Dark Island," mumbles a slightly-contrite Nikki.

The old man - Coriakin - spins around and stares at us through his bushy little eyebrows.

"What did you say?"

"Erm, she doesn't like to talk?" Nikki offers.

"No, where did you find her?" Coriakin looks like he's going to have a stroke. Or maybe I'm just in a sour mood and I'm imagining it.

"Dark Island. Cheesy name I know, but I didn't name it so I take no responsibil-" Nikki cuts herself off when Coriakin practically runs to a book with jumbled letters for a title. "Didn't I mention that earlier?"

"Forgive me, I must have missed the name of the island. Laurah, come here if you would."

I stay right where I am. He smells like magic, and I have no reason to trust magic. That island was ripe with it.

A gentle hand pushes me forward, and I move to swat it away. It turns me around, and Caspian's eyes stare back at me. It doesn't take a genius to see he's pleading with me. Still, he must not know magic like I do. I don't have to listen.

"Laurah, please. I'll be right behind you," he whispers, both of his hands now on my shoulders.

I purse my lips and try to turn away from him. Somehow, I've never found it easy to disobey him. Of course, he is a king, so that's probably a good thing in any other situation.

"Laurah, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to just give Coriakin a chance to help you."

Caspian lets me go so I can turn to look at Lilliandil. I remember that she's practically made of magic, and yet she's good. I can tell that's exactly what she wanted me to recall, but it still doesn't reassure me quite enough.

"I will go with you. Everything will be set right."

She soothes me enough that I nod, and we walk up to Coriakin side by side. Maybe his magic isn't that bad. I hope it isn't.

Coriakin blows on the book with the jumbled letters and opens it soon after, still frowning vaguely. Eventually, he turns around, open book in hand, to regard me with what seems to be a wary eye. Maybe Caspian or someone told him about my little fits of insanity. How perfect.

"Come here, child."

I'm not a child, but I do as he says, though I make sure Lilliandil stays right next to me. Maybe if this goes sour her good magic can help with the snake. It'll surely come out any chance it gets.

The old man starts saying something, but they aren't any words I've ever heard. They're strange and sound more like random syllables and combinations. Whatever they are, they're having a strange effect on me; I can't decide if it's good or bad.

But when the snake slithers its way out of my memory and into my reality, I quickly make up my mind. I was right all along. His magic isn't good. A few screams work their way past my trembling lips. I hate how frightened I am of this snake, but there's nothing I can do about it.

For once, the fates have a little mercy for me: I black out just as the snake coils to strike.

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><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

I stand there like a statue as Laurah collapses, sending a silent 'thank you' Lilli's way. I'm glad she went up to Coriakin with her, otherwise Cas and I would've been hard-pressed to catch her. My first impulse is still hollering for me to run up and make sure my best friend is okay, but I don't want to mess up this...whatever it is. With the mist streaming out of Laurah's head, it looks a little too much like an exorcism for my comfort.

Apparently Cas is just as weirded out as me, because I have to hold him back. He really worries a lot, probably too much. Then again, I probably do too. Oh what does it matter? We can worry as much as we want as long as this works. And I can babble nonsense while I try to understand what in the name of peanut butter fudge is going in here.

Coriakin seems to take hours to finish chanting his magic-exorcism spell, but finally all the mist is gone, albeit with a hiss and exploding vanishing act that almost bring all my meals for the past month up on the carpet.

The very second Coriakin is finished with the mistorcism, Cas and I both bolt for Laurah, still passed out cold. Literally, cold: her skin could be ice and I wouldn't be surprised.

"Chica? Laurah Hendrickson the Stubborn? You alive in there?" I say urgently into her ear, letting Cas take care of the shaking of her shoulders.

Her eyelids flutter, and then she's awake. Confused and more than a little worse for the wear, but awake nonetheless.

"Nikki?"

"Hey, you found your voice!" I chirp happily, trying to put my finger on what looks different.

Caspian scoots closer, and I take the hint and back up so he can have some time with her too. I know he's hoping she'll remember him now. Somehow, I have a feeling that's a whole other problema.

"Laurah?" he tries tentatively, looking more nervously hopeful than ever.

"Your Majesty." Laurah regards him carefully, as if he could turn into a rabid dog and bite her.

Ah, that's what's different! Her eyes! They're back to their normal rich green, rather than the washed out, mist-colored green they've been since we found her. I turn to Lilliandil and Coriakin, to make sure I'm interpreting this correctly.

"So there was a whole crap-load of that mist kind of possessing her, if you will, and now it's gone? Completely?"

"Yes, the mist is gone now," the magician answers, hesitating the slightest bit.

"What's the catch then?"

"What it stole remains stolen still," Lilli finishes, looking very sorry indeed.

"So she still doesn't remember anything? Well that's just damn frustrating..." Seriously, that's a really big problem I was hoping Coriakin could solve. "Isn't there anything you can do? A spell to return memories, or something like that?"

"In theory, perhaps. But the spell relies on the memory, or memories, being simply buried in the subconscious. Stolen memories are next to impossible to return, unless they are found. No magic can force them back."

"What good is your book of spells then?!" I huff, crossing my arms and trying not to scowl.

"Nikki, the evil is no longer living inside her. That's start enough."

Lilli's gentle scold makes me uncross my arms, but I can't help my lingering frustration.

"You must understand that there is no easy solution to all this."

My scowl disappears, and most of my aggravation diminishes. Lilli's right, of course. She always is.

"It's okay Nikki, I'll figure something out."

I turn around to regard my best friend curiously. She looks almost like her old self, but not quite. She still has that aura of sadness hanging about.

"How are you planning on doing that?" I ask tiredly. "If Coriakin, a dang magician for crying out loud, can't fix it, how do you plan to?"

"Maybe it's time to stop trying to fix me then."

"What do you mean?"

When she says nothing in response, I turn to Caspian. Surely he's got a few cents worth of sense left.

"Well? Aren't you going to say something?" I don't know what I expect him to say, just something - anything - to get her out of this weird, accusing attitude.

"Maybe she's right."

"Are Cheetos falling from my ears or did you just say we can just give up?"

"He's not saying we give up, Nikki," Lilli soothes. "He's just saying we should start accepting her as she is now."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to let the old happy Laurah be nothing more than a vague little memory floating about in all our heads? How is that good for anyone?"

"Trying so hard to make her go back to that could do more harm than good. Hasn't she been through enough?" Caspian sounds almost pleading, like I'm the bad guy in need of persuasion.

Where the heck did all this even come from anyway?! Wasn't the whole point of coming here fixing Dark Island's obviously extensive damage?!

"Of course she has! But leaving her like this isn't helping her, it's just accepting that the mist won!" I shout, no longer trying to stay calm for anyone's sake.

"And I have no say in this?" Laurah shrugs free of Caspian's arm around her shoulders and stands to face me. "Am I just a puppet now?"

"That's not what any of us meant-" Cas starts to say, stealing the words from my mouth actually.

"But it's what you're thinking, whether or not you meant to."

"Chica-" I try to speak, but she cuts me off too.

"No, Nikki. Stop this. I was a puppet for far too long to the snake. I'm not going to be your puppet either. Any of yours."

Leaving all of us staring at her in confusion, she walks out, eerily calm and composed in spite of the heated conversation that just took place. We all stand silently for what feels like hours, staring after her even when the door's long been closed behind her. Finally, Lilli steps toward the door Laurah left through.

"I will talk to her."

"It's no use right now." I warn.

My words fall flat as the star leaves the room.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you thought! I apologize if it's not as good as previous chapters: writer's block is awful, especially when untreated for months on end :P<strong>

**Review! :)**


	23. Chapter 22

**There we go, a quick update! Finally :P And we've got about five or six chapters left before this story's over...sounds bittersweet, at least to me XD**

**Thank you to Evy201 and Garideth for reviewing, and especially for your loyalty to this story! And a thank you to all my readers, followers, and ****favoriters! Love you all, and I couldn't do it without you!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

**Laurah POV:**

Something happened back there, but it must have been good. I think my body and mind are mine once again, and I don't think any more snakes can get to me. Maybe I'm not crazy anymore. Not that it's enough for them.

Kicking at the floor as I stalk onward, I try to remember that they do genuinely care about me. It's just that I'm tired of being an onlooker to my own life. I know Dark Island, as they called it, screwed me up. I know there are things I can't remember. But I'm halfway better; isn't that enough?

Nearly silent footfalls jerk me back to the present. It must be Lilliandil, the star. Only she can walk so quietly. I wouldn't be able to hear her at all if not for my sprite-enhanced five senses.

"Are you here to lecture sternly or advise kindly but still annoyingly?" I mumble, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I respect Lilliandil, so if she takes their side I'll have no choice but to see it their way.

"Perhaps the second would be best," she offers as she comes to stand next to me.

"You've got better judgment than me." I smile dryly to myself and focus my gaze on the view from the window I've stopped in front of.

"I am much older." A smile lights her already-lit face, and its gentleness helps me quell my lingering anger.

A peaceful quiet stretches between us for a few minutes, and I start to hope that maybe she understands my point of view on this.

"You recovered quickly."

"I've always been a fairly quick healer. But I'm sure Coriakin's magic helped," I answer blandly. I'm not sure where she's going with this, but I suppose I should just be grateful she's not chastising me.

More silence follows, but it's not peaceful from my end.

"Look, if you're going to reprimand me, go ahead. I hate the suspense."

"You may feel as you wish, and you understand their side as well as your own. I can offer you little help in that regard."

"So what did you want to speak with me about then?" I'm genuinely curious, if she's not going to talk about the recent little spat.

"An idea that may help distract you."

Distract me from being aggravated with Caspian - KING Caspian - and Nikki is what she means. Still, I'd welcome the break.

"And that would simultaneously help me, I'm sure."

Lilliandil's smile proves me right, and she speaks to me with an air of equality this time, rather than motheringly.

"The mist is gone from you, but Coriakin and I fear its source still remains close."

I pause to ponder that a moment before I catch on.

"And if I were to try to figure out its source?"

The ever-shining star smiles again, seemingly pleased with my perception.

"The searching and the finding could be of great help."

Well, she does have a point. With looking for the person or thing behind Dark Island and all the mist and whatnot, I'd be kept busy enough to be content. I'd be no one's puppet, perceived or actual. I'd have a purpose beyond whimpering and crying in a corner.

"By the way, I apologize for any sniveling you may have put up with from me," I say with a grimace. I hate to think of what I was like when that mist was still making a permanent residence out of my head. Pathetic doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm sorry to say that I do remember everything from King Caspian and crew finding me to the present. It's really a wonder no one threw me overboard, with all my carrying on.

"Be careful about closing yourself off, Laurah. It hurts those closest to you more than you think."

I swallow a small lump that formed in my throat while Lilliandil said that. Thinking of hurting everyone who's been so kind to me does sting a little. But I could be closing myself off a lot worse than I am now.

Lilliandil seems to understand that I'd like some time alone now, so she quietly leaves, though not without a small squeeze on my arm. It's comforting, just like the star herself.

Once I'm truly alone in the small sunroom I wandered into, I take the time to be still and quiet and just be. My mother, my sprite mother, would do this with me every night before bed, and it always helped me relax and be ready for sleep. Right now, it's serving the very useful purpose of clearing my head of all the clutter laying about in it.

At least a good hour passes while I unwind. When I finally think I'm ready to face everyone again, I start to head back the way I came. Still, in spite of my chill-session, I have to admit Lilliandil is right. Even I can feel walls closing around my heart again. Yes, the star was right. I'm shutting everything out I can, and I haven't even gotten into the same room with Nikki or King Caspian yet. This should go positively beautifully. Not.

Tentatively, I ease the door open, revealing several backs. The king, Lilliandil, and Nikki are all gathered around a table with Coriakin, talking about something very seriously and very urgently, judging by their postures and voice tones alone.

I half consider turning around and leaving them to it, but then Coriakin looks up and sees me.

"Come in, Laurah," he invites with a smile that just a little to grave. "Please, sit."

I do as I'm told and sit in the chair next to King Caspian, purposely ignoring the concerned look he sends my way.

"Sorry to have interrupted," I mutter, my head automatically ducking a little in the slightest giveaway of embarrassment.

"Quite alright; we were about to send for you in any case."

My eyes motion that Coriakin can continue what he was talking about before I came in, and luckily the old magician takes the hint.

"Now, all we know thus far is that the source of the mist has not been destroyed, and that he or she is an old friend of the White Witch's."

"How do we even know that?" I ask.

"Aslan told me, at the end of the world," the king answers, his eyes still carrying that worried look.

I nod to acknowledge his response and ignore his worry.

"But we don't have a single bopping clue as to where he or she is hanging out?" Nikki sounds annoyed and anxious, much like she's been since she set foot on this island.

"Only one: I've heard rumors of sightings of the mist close to here." Coriakin illustrates the 'here' by pointing to the map he's spread all over the table, at a spot fairly close to here, and almost on the way to the Lone Islands. It looks like a small island.

"We can pay the place a visit on our way to the Lone Islands," King Caspian decides, seemingly pleased to have some sort of lead.

After that, there's really nothing else to say, and I'm happy when Coriakin dismisses us from this small room. He says we should stay a day to rest up and make sure we have provisions for the rest of the journey home. By the time we've sorted out who's staying in the mansion and who's staying on the ship, it's approaching dinnertime. We all gather in the mansion for supper, and then disperse according to assigned sleeping arrangements. Coriakin's mansion is huge to be sure, but some would simply rather be on the ship for the night. With the odd little Dufflepods that this island has, I personally don't blame them.

I almost wish I'd been able to sleep on the ship myself, when those things stay up chattering into the wee hours. They're little, but their mouths are anything but that. At well past midnight, I lose my patience and storm out of my room for the night. If I have any luck, there'll be a garden somewhere nearby I can relax in. Hell, maybe i'll sleep there! The Dufflepods' noise might be slightly more muted by the plants than the mansion's walls.

Luckily for me, there is a garden, and I find it soon enough. Not as soon as I'd like, but sooner than never. And what a garden! It's not one of those measly flowers-only gardens. No, this one has trees and dirt paths, and wildflowers rather than domesticated varieties. It's almost too much like home to bear. I think of the sprite village and palace as home now.

My keen ears pick up on the sound of rushing water, and I dare to hope for a small brook. I find a fountain instead, but the sound of the water is so soothing I can't be disappointed.

"Lovely evening, isn't it?"

Of course. I should have known I couldn't be alone in so perfect a place.

"Your Majesty," I greet him, adding a curtsy to make sure it's proper.

He sighs, clearly unhappy with my greeting. Well, what did he expect? He just so happens to be a king. That sort of greeting is customary, is it not?

"Laurah, don't you remember what I've told you? It's just Caspian."

I shrug and try not to dwell on the fact that I definitely can't sleep here now.

"Couldn't sleep?"

This time he's the one who shrugs, and he turns his gaze back to the fountain, to the water spilling over each of the intricately carved levels.

"Too much on my mind, I suppose. And you?"

"Damn Dufflepods."

King Caspian lets out a small laugh at that, and a smile briefly twitches at the corners of my mouth too.

"They are only 'cute', as Nikki would say, for the first five minutes, yes?"

I smile again, breathing out a tiny, tiny laugh in response. "Yes."

For a few minutes, neither of us says anything, and I'm just about to turn and go find another part of the garden to unwind in when the king speaks up suddenly but softly.

"Back at the Telmarine Castle, there is a fountain similar to this. In the royal garden."

I make a small "hmm" of interest, wondering why he felt the need to mention that.

The king runs the tips of his fingers under a waterfall and then looks back at me sideways.

"You used to love it there."

"By me do you mean we?" I'd heard he and I were supposed to have a past. Judging by his actions and attitudes towards me, I'd bet it was a romantic one, at least at one point.

His lips quirk upward. "Yes, we. I loved it because you did."

I let out a small snort. "No appreciation for nature on your own, then?"

"It wasn't that," he explains with a shake of his head, "I loved it all the more for your sake."

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to that, so I let out another "hmm."

Another few minutes of quiet pass, and then he pats the stone edge of the fountain next to him.

"Sit with me?"

After a moment of hesitation, I join him, though I don't sit as close as I'm sure he'd have liked. But my focus is drawn to the water for a few moments, and it seems so beautiful all of a sudden. A soft smile winds its way onto my face as I dip my fingertips into the cool water. I didn't realize how warm my skin was until the chill of the water hit. It feels good to cool down, in both senses.

"So...what happened at that fountain like this one back at your castle?" I ask him that because I can't think of anything else to say, and something about sitting silently by a fountain with the king of Narnia feels too intimate.

"I asked you to marry me," King Caspian responds, almost indifferently, as if he's talking about someone else rather than himself.

An "Oh," is all I can manage. What does a girl say to that, honestly?

More quiet, but it feels the slightest bit awkward this time.

"Do you want the ring back?"

The king looks at me, seeming to be genuinely confused. "Why would I?"

"You might want to give it to someone else," I answer simply.

He doesn't say anything; he just stares at me, and it makes me a bit uncomfortable. So I tug at the emerald ring on my left ring finger until it comes off, and I hold it out to him.

King Caspian just stares at the ring and my hand that's holding it out to him, with a look of almost tragic sadness. I'm about to apologize, but I'll feel too strange wearing this ring that isn't mine anymore. I'm not the same woman I was then. I don't even remember any of it.

Finally, he opens his hand below mine, and I drop the beautiful little ring into his palm. The green of the gemstone contrasts sharply with his skin, and my gaze lingers on the ring for a moment longer. He almost looks hopeful I'll take it back for a moment, but then that look disappears behind a mask. Apparently I'm not the only one shutting myself away.

"Well, I'd better be getting back to bed. Need my sleep. G'night." With the somewhat abrupt farewell, I leave him sitting there on the fountain's ledge, still staring at the ring that sits in his palm.

* * *

><p>The next morning Coriakin gives us all the supplies and provisions we could need to last us to the mainland, and we all bid the old magician farewell. I make sure I thank him for what he did for me. Then we're casting off, and the<em> Dawn Treader<em>, as I've learned the ship is called, leaves port and we're back on the open sea. I'm sure we're setting a course for that place Coriakin told us the mist had been sighted.

Nikki and I manage to make up, and we both apologize for what we each said. Then I tell her about accidentally meeting King Caspian in the gardens last night. She tsks when I mention giving the ring back, and I keep my comment about my finger feeling cold without the ring to myself. I don't want anyone playing matchmaker. We muse back and forth about why the mist wasn't destroyed with Dark Island the rest of the conversation.

It only takes the day to get to the place, but I'm still not sure it was worth it. The light of the slowly sinking sun reveals the same view we've been looking at for the past few months: open sea, an island made of nothing but rocks and sand, and nothing else. The only difference is that the waves are more white-capped than usual, but that only means the water is more shallow here.

"Well that was productive. There's nothing here," I whisper to Nikki.

"Perhaps it only seems that way," Sadrian chimes in from Nikki's other side.

I swear, sometimes I'm convinced they're glued at the hip. They're always together, with two exceptions: when they're sleeping or when they're going to the bathroom. Other than that, I've yet to see either of them willingly leave the other's company. Nikki swears he's just a friend, but I know much better. She might not see how Sadrian looks at her, but I do. Still, I'll let her figure that out on her own.

"We can hope so. At the very least we could get a swimming trip out of it." Nikki's mood has improved significantly since we got back on board the ship and Sadrian could work his magic on her.

She pauses before looking sideways at me and leaning in to whisper in my ear. "Why aren't you with Cas?"

"Why would I be?" I answer her question with my own, and I try not to think about last night's little encounter at the garden. A small part of me feels guilty, because I think the king was hurting after that. He hasn't looked at me once today. I almost miss it, his company, but I'm just barely too stubborn to actually do so.

"Chica, what are you on?" she demands, turning me by my shoulder to face her.

"LSD, apparently." I almost take back my bitingly sarcastic tone, but Nikki isn't hurt by it. We're both sarcastic, so I guess she understands.

She only rolls her eyes as she continues, "Can't you see how much the poor pup misses you? Get your little butt over there and at least make small talk!"

"And what good would that do? I know I need space; maybe he does too."

"Laurah Hendrickson! Sometimes you can be so blind it makes me wanna hit you! How would you feel if your long-time fiancée recently back from the all-fired dead suddenly gave you back the ring and basically broke off the whole blinkin' engagement?"

"First of all, since when has there been an engagement? I thought that was null and void when I lost my mind and my memories of it. Second of all, he was indifferent when he mentioned proposing to me. He's over it."

"Chica, the only reason he seemed indifferent is because he's putting up the same walls you are, and for the exact same reason: neither of you wants to get hurt. Which is understandable, right?"

I shrug my grudging agreement and try to be at least a little kinder.

"Alright, you have a point."

"And so what is it you're going to do about it?" she prods, jerking her head toward the king, who now stands on the poop deck leaning on the rail and looking at the sea.

I'm far too stubborn for my own good.

"I'm going to help Cook with dinner."

Nikki's exasperated sigh sounds behind me as I head to the ship's small but functional kitchen. It's a miracle I even know where it is, since I've been there a total of zero times.

The cook barely looks up as I enter, probably thinking me another hungry passenger come to ask for a small taste of dinner.

"Need a hand?"

"I need several, if you're offering," the rotund man replies, throwing an apron my way.

"I've got two, and I am." I catch the apron before it falls to the floor and put it on. I have several jobs within the minute.

The work helps me relax, oddly enough. It gives me something to do other than sit and think. It keeps me nice and busy, so I can focus on things like the dishes piling up in the sink, or the vegetables that need chopping, or the soup that needs stirring instead of the mist and my memories and Caspian - King Caspian, that is.

Far too soon, dinner's ready. I help Cook get it out to the crew, and then we all sit down. I end up between Nikki and Lilliandil, which is a rather agreeable setup. Nikki chatters happily with Sadrian, and Lilliandil isn't the overly talkative sort anyway, so I enjoy a rather peaceful supper. My eyes flit up a few times when I feel the king looking at me, but his gaze darts away too quickly for me to meet his eye. Not that I want to.

When dinner's over, I collect the dishes and bring them back to the kitchen. I purposely take longer than I need to do all the cleaning chores, just in case the king decided to wait for me outside. If Cook, and I should probably get his name, notices, he either doesn't care or just doesn't say anything.

"I never got your name." I have to speak louder than usual, since we're both banging pots and pans as we wash them or dry them or put them away.

"Cook."

"Your real name?"

"It's what I go by."

"Is it what you prefer?"

"Aye."

"Alright then, Cook it is."

I shrug to myself and finish the last of my chores. I'm almost sorry to be done, even though it's been at least two or three hours of cleaning. The work was good for me, kept my mind occupied and relaxed.

"See you in the morning?" I'm not sure if I'm needed for breakfast, since I've never noticed anyone eating breakfast around here. Maybe the occasional apple or orange, but nothing cooked or prepared.

"Late afternoon. Just for dinner."

Cook gives me a small smile as I nod in acknowledgement, his pudgy cheeks dimpling the slightest bit. I can't help but smile broadly. Dimples on Cook somehow manage to be amusing and cute at the same time.

My smile lingers as I leave the kitchen and go on deck. The familiar salty smell of the ocean air widens my grin even more, and I take in several big breaths of it. I'm more relaxed now than I've been in months.

"At last, you smile."

I jump a bit and turn sideways to see none other than the king sitting on a barrel, clearly waiting for me.

"Yeah, my face finally remembered how."

The tension between us makes most of my smile slowly slip off my face. I almost want to apologize for last night, but I don't know what else I was supposed to do. Keep a ring that stood for an engagement that wasn't valid anymore?

"It should remember more often." The remark could be chastising, but he makes it gentle and almost teasing. It coaxes part of my smile back, and he makes a point to meet my eyes with his. I can tell he's smiling a little too, even though it's now quite dark outside.

But before I can think of anything to say back, something catches the corner of my eye. It's near the rocky island. Maybe Coriakin was right after all.

I don't wait for King Caspian to notice it too; I just power-walk to the side of the ship and stare out at the pale greenish light. On an impulse, I start shedding the outer layers of my clothes, until I'm in just my very long shirt. The king's come up beside me, and I almost laugh at how he turns away and blushes. But the shirt's down to my mid-thigh, so I'm covered. I have to indulge in a silent chuckle before diving into the water and swimming for the light on the island.

"Laurah! What on earth are you doing?" The king's shout reaches my ears as I resurface, but I don't pay it any mind. What does it look like I'm doing, anyway?

"Getting a closer look," I mumble against the water. I've never been good at floating, and I blame the years of dance that packed my lower half with muscle. Muscle is heavy, and it doesn't float spectacularly well.

I swim steadily toward the island, and I'm happy the ship isn't anchored too far away. A splash sounds behind me, and the sound of someone swimming after me is loud and clear. I guess the king doesn't me out here alone. He's a fast swimmer too, and catches up to me rather quickly.

"Miss me too much?"

"It may not be safe out here."

Yep, Nikki was right. He's got himself nice and closed off, just like me. I'm happy to find that I don't mind one bit. In fact, I'm a little pleased, that he's gotten wise enough to protect his own heart.

But then my attention quickly turns to the island and the green glow, where a human-ish figure has appeared. Immediately, I stop swimming and grab King Caspian's arm so he'll stop too. I pull us both out of sight behind a large rock and peek around the side to keep watching.

The figure paces back and forth, head bowed, shoulders hunched, hands clasped behind the back. It's upset about something, and my sprite hearing is just good enough that I can make out a few words.

"Bloody...prince...island...plans...my mist..."

The little I can make out seems to be more than enough.

The king looks at me expectantly, knowing by my face that I understood at least a little of it.

"Looks like that's our source," I whisper, my lips unintentionally tickling his ear.

I turn my attention back to the muttering, pacing figure covered in the greenish light. There's something familiar about that light. I know I've seen it before.

"What is it?" Apparently the king has noticed my puzzlement.

"That pale green light...I've seen it somewhere before." I'm racking my brains, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

I look back at the figure, and then it hits me. That's a sprite. Same color hair, similar clothing, same light surrounding him or her. Unmistakably a sprite.

Now that I've figured that out, I don't want to say it out loud. I don't want to think that it could have been someone I know. I was a pathetic, sniveling little mess at Dark Island and I'm ashamed of that, but I'm still hurt that one of my own could have done all that to me. It's not something I would've ever thought of, not in my wildest dreams. The sprites are supposed to be my real family. What kind of family member tortures its own kin? After all, the sprites are one big family really.

The figure eventually disappears into some sort of cave or grotto, and I turn away quickly once it does. Now I can go back to the _Dawn Treader_ and be alone and find something to keep me busy so I don't have to think about this. King Caspian grabs my hand as I start to swim back, but I pull free. I just don't want company right now.

He leaves me be until we climb back on board, and I rush into a corner to slip out of the wet shirt and get my dry clothes on instead. My plan consists only of making it to the sleeping quarters I now share with five other women before he catches hold of me again. Much to my annoyance, my plan fails.

"Come on Laurah, talk to me."

"I barely know you," I grumble, trying to shove past him. It's easier said than done. He's not a large man, but he's deceptively strong.

"Humor me then?" he asks, though it sounds more like a command than a request.

"Why?"

King Caspian opens his mouth, but then closes it again. I'm about to make some snarky remark when he opens his mouth again.

"No one should suffer alone."

"Who taught you that?"

"That was not a lesson I learned; it's called compassion."

From here, I'm certain he's going to launch into a lecture or something of the sort that I don't really want to hear, so I do the only thing I can think of to prevent it. I take a step forward, grab the back of his head, and kiss him on the mouth.

He seems surprised at first, but I keep him where he is. Eventually he gives up, and actually kisses me back. When I pull away, he's so many colors of confused it almost makes me confused.

"What was that for?" The king speaks so softly, and there's warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

"Don't get all excited. It was to shut you up," I blurt out, as blunt as I please. I'm almost expecting him to be angry with me, but he reacts the exact opposite: he laughs.

The king laughs as if nothing else in the entire world is as funny as what I just said. I stare at him like he's the mental one, and I start to wonder at that very idea. Maybe he's gone off the deep end himself.

"Perhaps I should talk more often," he manages as his laughter dies down.

"Perhaps I should keep my lips to myself," I grouse, trying not to roll my eyes. But I can't help but laugh a little bit too. King Caspian's laugh is too contagious.

"Come now, what is it that's bothering you?"

I hesitate. "Maybe tomorrow."

The king sighs but nods, though he's still smiling. "So it's goodnight then?"

"I suppose it is." I almost feel sorry to leave him. It must be all those times he was so sweet and understanding with me, when I was crazy. I have the crazy idea to thank him for that. So I turn back to him and give him another kiss, though this one's much gentler than the first.

When I pull back, his eyes are still closed, and he looks contentedly happy, more than I've seen him yet.

"That was a thank you and a goodnight," I whisper against his lips.

Then I turn away again and go to my sleeping quarters. But I can't help but sneak a quick peek back at him before I close the door. He's still looking back at me when I close it.

* * *

><p><strong>A chapter in one day...I am proud of myself. Getting geared up for NaNo isn't so bad after all! :D<strong>

**Let me know what you thought! I love the feedback :D**

**Until next chapter :)**


	24. Chapter 23

**Even with writer's block, a chapter a day is possible! Never mind that it meant staying up until 4am. I'm going to be toasted before NaNo even starts...XD **

**A huge thank you to NymphadoraLupin898, Garideth, Evy201, and Alissiel for reviewing! You all give me soooo much motivation I can't even put it into words! Thank you also to my wonderful readers, followers, and ****favoriters. The support is just wonderful! **

**The song I quote in this chapter is called "My Jolly Sailor Bold", and it's from POTC4. I highly recommend looking it up; it's a beautiful song :) I'll put the link on my profile for the version I listen to ;)**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

**Laurah POV:**

I wake early the next morning, and my first thought is to fall back asleep. But suddenly I want to be out on deck just as much, so I get myself dressed and do just that.

When I emerge, I see a lone, glowing figure at the bow of the ship, staring out at the still-grey sky. She doesn't look lonely, but I still have the urge to go over, just for company. I'd like to get to know the star better.

She doesn't look over at me when I stand beside her, but she smiles slightly in greeting.

"Good morning, Laurah."

"G'morning."

We stand there comfortably, staring out at the ocean as the ship bobs in time with the waves. Apparently the captain saw fit to anchor here for the night, in spite of the rumors. No matter, we'll be on our way soon enough. Though I am a little impatient. I don't want to linger here, lest I think too much.

"Thinking is good, you know," Lilliandil says quietly, seeming to guess my thoughts.

I nod once and try to think of something else to talk about.

"What made you decide to leave your father's island?"

Clearly, the star wasn't expecting this. Her eyes flit over to appraise me before she gives me her answer.

"I have spent many decades staring down at Narnia and everything around it. I wished to see it with my feet on the ground."

"That makes sense. Sort of a wanting to experience it, not just see it?"

"Yes, exactly." Lilliandil offers me a smile, and I smile right back.

"Now that you know me better, perhaps it is my turn to ask a question now?"

I blink a few times, caught off guard by her comment. What could she want to know about me? But I nod my assent. It's only fair.

"Do you close yourself off out of fear or anger?"

"Um...I..." I have no idea. What kind of question is that, anyway?

I stutter over my words, and Lilliandil waits patiently for me to come up with an answer made of words rather than "Umm"s and "Uh"s.

"I...I guess it's just shame." As soon as I say that, I know it's true.

The star looks sideways at me, clearly expecting a longer answer. I give it to her, surprisingly.

"I was so disgustingly weak before Coriakin got the mist out. Disgustingly! And I hate that. I've never been the weak one; that was my mom! And I'm just so mad at myself for being that weak and pathetic and feeble!" Tears prick at my eyes, but I keep going. "And most of all, I hate that everyone on this blasted ship saw that! Saw me so vulnerable and so plain stupid! So it was a snake: big deal! Snakes aren't that frightening. But what did I do? I sat around and screamed like a maniac." My cheeks are wet now, but it doesn't matter. If they're angry tears, they're not weak tears.

"Your fear was perfectly rational, Laurah. And I promise no one thought of you as weak for being afraid. Your mind was frayed and fragmented; no one could blame you for that."

"That's another thing: when all that Dark Island hoo-rah was happening, my mother was able to comfort me. That should've been enough to keep me sane! What kind of a woman am I if I can't handle a few nightmares?!" I shout, not at anyone in particular, but it feels good to put a voice to my feelings.

I pause to swipe at my cheeks and take a deep, if shaky, breath. My voice is much calmer when I speak again.

"I guess I've always tried so hard to be strong for other people that I can't handle the fact that I wasn't strong this time, and everyone saw it. I guess I'm trying to prove that I'm not as weak as the past few weeks would suggest."

Lilliandil stares out at the sea and the lightening sky for a while before answering.

"You do not have to act as you do now to be strong."

"It's easier though," I whisper, resting my forearms on the railing.

"Is that strength?"

My answer catches in my throat, and I have to shake my head. "I guess not."

The star smiles and nods her approval as the sky begins to change from light grey to soft orange.

"Well that is not what I was planning when this conversation started." I laugh a watery laugh and shake my head at my tears, now dried into salty trails on my face.

"What was it you were planning?" Lilliandil asks, seemingly amused.

"I just wanted to get to know you a little better. You saved my ass a few times." And it felt odd to know so little about someone who's helped me a fair amount.

This time we both laugh, and I think that maybe I have gotten to know her a bit better after all.

We stand in companionable silence until the rest of the ship starts waking up, and I tell her to stick around, because I have something to mention to her and Nikki.

As luck would have it, Nikki walks up just then.

"G'morning chicas! How long ya been up?" she greets with a yawn, running her hand through one of her worse cases of bedhead.

"Longer than you, apparently," I smirk, helping her smooth the strange contortions her hair got itself into overnight.

"Shut it." She finishes with her hair, and it looks almost presentable.

"Good heavens child, you gonna let Sadrian see you like that?" I knock her lightly on the shoulder, holding in a triumphant giggle when her cheeks take on a light dusting of pink.

"Who, MopMan? He can deal with it." She puts up a good indifferent face, I'll give her that.

"Speaking of men, what did you do to Cas last night? The poor boy's been hit with Cupid's Arrow."

"What do you mean?" I arch one eyebrow and look at her questioningly. Surely last night's few kisses didn't affect him that much.

"I mean yesterday he was afraid to look at you. Today, he can't help himself."

I look around the ship to see if she's right; sure enough, the king is glancing at me from the poop deck. I hold his gaze for a moment before turning back to Nikki. And I get a devilish idea.

"Oh you know, nothing big. A little skinny-dipping, a little bantering, a few kisses. Nothing big."

Nikki's jaw hangs open, and she gapes at me for at least five minutes. I keep a straight face the whole time, even when Lilliandil asks if that was what I had to mention.

"Chica, you did WHAT?" Her eyes are starting to bug out, and it almost cracks my serious facade. "I mean, it's great that you're reconnecting, but that moved rather...quickly..."

I let out the short burst of laughter I've been holding in and finally take pity on her. "I was only kidding, Nikki; I promise. There was no skinny-dipping," I chuckle, patting her shoulder gently in reassurance. "But on that subject, we found something last night. Well, actually we saw something last night."

"Someone else skinny-dipping?" Nikki asks, sarcastically I might add.

I laugh again, and say, "No, skinny-dipping was not in any part of last night, I promise. We figured out the thing behind the mist and Dark Island and all that crap."

"Well spill then! What's our little troublemaker?"

Plugging one of my ears with a finger, I respond, "A sprite. No idea who, but I know it was a sprite. "

"...are you shitting me right now?" Nikki looks about ready to throw up she's so surprised.

"Nope."

"I am sorry, Laurah. Such a revelation mustn't have been easy."

I smile at Lilliandil and accept the kind remark with a wry smile.

"Yeah, it stung at first. But hey, nothing can be perfect, right?"

"Sort of a 'there's always a bad apple in the bunch' theory?" Nikki asks, apparently over most of her shock.

"Exactly. So I'll get over it."

Just then, Sadrian walks up, though Lilliandil and I are the only ones who can see him. I keep my face normal as he sneaks up behind Nikki, fighting my amused grin for all I'm worth. She doesn't seem to notice anything's up, and Lilliandil thankfully keeps her mouth shut.

"Well in the meantime, we can- YIPERS!" Nikki lets out a deafening shriek as Sadrian picks her up by the waist, and even Lilliandil can't help but laugh.

When he puts her down, she turns around and swats the side of his head, but she's smiling and laughing too.

"You rat! Why do you do that all the time?"

"Forgive me; it is amusing," Sadrian laughs, barely keeping himself composed.

Nikki scowls, and I lean in to whisper in her ear.

"You should try kissing him; maybe he'd stop."

"Laurah! I swear, I'll...oorgh!" She swats at me this time, but I manage to dodge her swings.

"I'll leave you alone for a little bit," I wheedle, slipping away easily from the group.

I'd like to go help Cook, but it's barely mid-morning, and he doesn't need me until late afternoon. So I end up wandering around deck with nothing to do. It gets me in a sour mood pretty quickly. I like being busy so I don't have to think. Now that I'm not doing anything in particular, it's hard not to think. I don't want to think about last night, any of it. I don't want to think about what I'm going to do when we reach the mainland. Narnia. Nikki would roast me alive if I left King Caspian, but my home is with the sprites. Even if one of them is responsible for...

I shake my head to clear it and grip the ship's railing so hard my knuckles turn white. Thinking isn't good. So I try to keep my head otherwise occupied by staring out at the sea. But when my eyes settle on the island we still have yet to sail away from, last night's little revelations pop right back into my mind. I hit the wood rail with my fist, flinching slightly when I feel a splinter jab into the side of my finger. Damn.

Hesitant footsteps warn me that someone's approaching, and I hide my frustration quickly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the king step up next to me and rest his arms on the rail. I can't pretend I don't notice him there, so I speak up quickly.

"One word about last night and I swear I'll throw you overboard."

"Do you regret it that much?" asks the king, a bit teasingly I might add.

"Caspian..." I warn, flexing my good hand.

He turns and looks at me full-on then, a strange look in his eyes.

"What?" Then I realize I called him Caspian. Without his title. "Don't you say a word."

He obeys, but that doesn't mean he doesn't smile. Well, it's more of a half-smile half-smirk. So I still smack his arm.

"My lady, I did not say a thing!" King Caspian complains lightly, rubbing his arm where I hit him.

"You didn't have to. Oh, and I'm not your lady."

"What do you mean?"

My lips quirk upward in a small smile. "A lady doesn't hit people when they annoy her. Hence, I'm not a lady."

The king's smile gets a twinge of mischievousness. "But you do not object to the first word of the phrase?"

"I don't see why I- OH!" Damn. I duck my head away from him as my cheeks flame. Damn it to Davy Jones' Locker.

Luckily, he doesn't say anything else. And I don't either; I keep my head turned away, using the excuse of the splinter still in my hand to not look at him. I don't even have to look to know he's still smiling to himself.

But then he notices me trying to dig the tiny piece of wood from my finger, and gently takes my hand before I can stop him.

"Let me."

"I can get it," I insist, trying to tug my hand out of his.

He ignores me, and proceeds to get the offending sliver of wood out of my finger. I roll my eyes when he's not looking and pray Nikki isn't looking. I'll never hear the end of it if she is, I'm sure.

"Your Majesty?"

He shoots me an annoyed look before releasing my hand.

"You know you didn't have to do that, right?"

He sighs and shakes his head at me, like I'm a hopeless old thing. I wait for him to say something, but he never does. Finally, I break the silence.

"Alright, alright, I get it. You didn't have to but you wanted to."

"Something like that, yes," murmurs King Caspian as he finally moves his gaze from me to the water, and the island. "I'm sorry."

I tip my head to the side in response. "For what?"

The king quirks half his mouth into a wry smile. "You ordered me not to speak of it."

"Ah. Is it about last night in the water, or last night on deck?"

"The former of the two."

"Oh, well that's okay to talk about, I guess. And thanks. I just hope it's not anyone I know, you know?" I'm really hoping it's just a bad-apple sprite, who's vindictive and just likes watching people suffer, because that makes it so much easier to deal with my particular hard time. If he or she wasn't targeting me specifically, that somehow makes the situation less painful.

I'm wishing very much that he hadn't brought that up though, because the other part of last night is now tugging at my mind. And the last thing I'd like to do right now is stand here next to the king of Narnia and think about how pleasant his lips were to kiss. And I'd also not like to recall how his wet shirt stuck to his chest when he followed me out into the water. Yes, I'd very much like to dismiss those silly little observations.

Because those things keep whispering around in my stubborn little head, I excuse myself politely under the pretense that I better check with Cook to see if he needs any help right now. I know he doesn't, but it works as an excuse. I even go into the kitchen briefly, to keep up the pretext. Cook's not even in there, so I don't have to explain my strange behavior.

Nikki pounces on me when I go out on deck again.

"I saw that sweet moment, chica. Spill."

"Nothing to spill. I got annoyed, I slammed my fist against the rail, I got a splinter. Then the king came along, I warned him not to mention last night, and he noticed me trying to dig the darn thing out of my finger. And he insisted on getting it out for me. End of story." It wasn't that big of a deal, not that anyone would think so after Nikki's reaction.

"And you let him! Chica, you are on the right track I tell you!" Well she's happier than a kid with a lollipop.

"I didn't exactly have a choice. He wouldn't let go of my hand."

"Even better!" Nikki declares, practically wriggling with glee.

I roll my eyes and wait for her to calm down. It takes a good five minutes or so, but my patience, or semblance thereof, is rewarded. When she's all calm again, Nikki's gaze instantly flits to Sadrian, who's talking with a fellow crew member at the moment.

"Oh go on, get your butt over to your crush." I shoo her towards him with no small amount of glee; karma is sweet, and the tables have turned.

I laugh when she resists my gentle nudging, and nudge all the harder. Finally, Nikki gives in and meanders over to him, though not without mouthing, 'He's not my crush!' Another laugh escapes my throat, and I shake my head as she heads off.

Once I lift my head and look around again, the first thing I see is the king. He's talking with Lillliandil, and I try not to notice how close together they're standing. I also try not to notice both of them smiling gently, and I especially try not to notice how his hand moves over to hers and clasps it firmly.

I shake my head slightly to make sure I don't care, and turn back to Nikki. She's still recovering, and I move so that Sadrian can't see her still-blushing face. Nikki'd kill me if he teased her about that for all eternity. Luckily, he quickly stops looking our way; the captain gives the order to set sail, and all of the crew rushes to their stations on deck. Finally. It's about time we left this island.

Once we've set sail, I start to relax a little bit at a time. I spend the rest of the morning joking around with Nikki and Sadrian, but I'm counting the minutes until I can go help Cook. The kitchen work keeps me very busy, and I'm starting to crave the work. Midday inches by, and I retreat to the bow, choosing the dragon's mouth as my perch for the next few hours. The top half of its face is missing, so I recline on the wooden tongue and prop my feet against its two lower teeth. Between the gentle warmth of the sun reflecting off the water and the cool sea breeze, I doze off. When I wake, the sky is painted in streaks of red and orange, and I can't help but flash back to another sunset a year ago.

My father's yelling voice rings in my ears for a moment, and I have to close my eyes to keep them from tearing up. It's been over a year; I shouldn't be crying over this. He wasn't even a good dad. Still...I wish he wasn't dead, wish I could've stopped him, saved him. One pesky tear leaks from my eye, and I swipe it away angrily. I've done enough crying in the past few weeks. No need to add to the list of waterwork displays.

Thankfully, I have a job to do. Actually, I'm late for said job. So I scurry out of the dragon's head and rush to the kitchen, relieved to finally have something to occupy my mind for the next few hours.

Cook doesn't seem to mind that I'm late; he just tosses me an apron and gives me work. He takes care of the actual meal, but I help with preparing the food beforehand and keeping the kitchen as clutter-free as possible while we work. Keeping things picked up is the harder half of my job; feeding this many people produces an exorbitant amount of dishes, and I wash, dry, and put away like a machine. But even though it's dizzyingly fast-paced, it lulls me into a happy kind of autopilot. I hum almost without realizing it, and I can feel a smile settling onto my face.

"Do you know any songs?" I ask Cook.

In response, he starts singing what sounds like a sailor's ditty, and repeats it twice so I can learn it. The third time, I join him, and the work becomes even more fun. I scrub in time with the tune, and my pace quickens as a result. My grin feels wide enough to stretch from one ear to the other, and even Cook is smiling a bit. We both sing a little louder, and I'm sorry when the ditty is over. Cook starts another, and time flies as we sing three more.

"Your turn, lass."

I rack my brains for a sailor's song, but all I can think of is a slower song. But it's sort of a sailor's song; I think I heard it in a pirate movie a while ago. So I sing it, loving how easily the tune floats off my tongue.

"Upon one summer's morning/ I carefully did stray/ down by the walls of Wapping/ where I met a sailor gay/ conversing with a young lass/ who seemed to be in pain/ saying 'William, when you go, I fear you'll ne'er return again'..."

The melody lulls me, and my movements slow the slightest bit, become more careful and graceful. I get so lost in the song, I almost forget that Cook's listening. He doesn't join me, but he's still smiling happily, albeit more peacefully now.

All too son, the song's over, and I slowly come back to reality. I find that all the dishes are washed and dried; I only have to put them away. Dinner's almost ready too, so the before-dinner work is mostly over. Still, I have enough time to put away most of the dishes. I hum a few Disney songs as I do, and Cook hums more ditties. The mesh of both our tunes turns out to be rather pleasant-sounding, and my smile grows giddy again.

That is, until I see who's standing at the door, clearly listening to the humming and singing. More specifically, he's listening to me; his gaze never leaves me, even when I pretend I didn't notice him there and continue with my work. I wonder how long King Caspian's been standing there listening.

Thankfully, Cook bangs some pot lids together to let the whole ship know that supper's ready. When I glance at the door again, the king is gone. I can't explain the mix of relief and slight disappointment I feel.

But dinner distracts me, and I sit between Nikki and Lilliandil again. I manage to avoid the king's glances, even though I'm tempted to return some of them. It must be left over gratitude. He was awful kind when I was nutso, after all. It's not that I like him. I'm pretty sure. I'm glad when dinner's over. I need more busy work to keep my mind occupied.

The very minute supper's finished, I scurry back to the kitchen and throw myself back into my work with a vengeance. Cook hums again, and I join him for the ditties. He even learns some of my Disney tunes as well, and the humming makes time fly by pleasantly. I purposely avoid looking at the door, even though I'm pretty sure King Caspian isn't there. Still, all the chores are done before I know it, and then Cook's bidding me a goodnight and thanking me for the help and I'm giving the apron back and saying goodnight and promising to help again tomorrow.

And as luck would have it, the king's standing just outside the door.

"You have a beautiful voice."

"Thanks. Sounds better when it's warmed up. That's why I didn't sound like a scratchy old record." My cheeks flush a bit at the knowledge that he certainly did hear me singing, but luckily it's dark enough outside that he can't see me blushing.

We walk down the deck in surprisingly companionable silence, and tonight I'm tired enough to go straight to bed. The king walks me to the door, but pauses for a moment. For a brief second, I wonder amusedly if he'll kiss me, since I bestowed two kisses on him ever so willingly last night. He surprises me: he kisses my hand instead of my lips. It's a sweet gesture, and it makes me smile at him more than I ought to. And I'm still grinning, softly but like a fool, when I say goodnight too.

I close the door almost regretfully, and hum my sailor's song while I take off my outer clothing layers to distract myself from thinking about King Caspian. All attempts at wiping the tiny smile from my lips turns out to be useless, and I toss and turn almost enough to wake my roommates. It takes at least two hours for me to finally fall asleep.

Nightmares haunt me each time I nod off, and several times I wake up with a small cry. Thankfully it's never quite loud enough to wake anyone.

By morning, I've barely slept at all.

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><p><strong>This chapter's a mite shorter, but it was the best place to end it :P And it's also 4:20 in the morning and I'd really like to sleep now XD<strong>

**Let me know what you thought! It motivates me so so much! As evident by these back-to-back chapters ;)**

**And if you want to hear the song Laurah sings, the link is on my profile :)**

**Until next chapter, you wonderful people!**


	25. Chapter 24

**Yay, I finished before 3am this time! I'm on a roll! :D Only 3 or 4 chapters left, y'all!**

**A massive amounts of thank you's to Alissiel, Evy201, Garideth, and NymphadoraLupin98 for such wonderful and continuous reviews! I couldn't crank out a chapter every day without you guys! So many thanks as well to all my readers and followers and ****favoriters! You all are the best!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

**Laurah POV:**

The next few weeks my nightmares get worse each night. They're not visions, but they still scare me. Always, they're about my dad or my human mother. Most nights I start awake before I start crying or muttering in my sleep, but sometimes I don't, and then I have to reassure Nikki that I'm fine for at least a half an hour before I can get back to sleep. What scares me the most is that there was no trigger for these bad dreams. I guess I'm subconsciously worried about my human mom, but she was more than alright when I left.

I start getting moody as I get less and less sleep each night. Even the king learns to let me be when I get snappish. The ship slowly crawls closer to the Lone Islands, and time passes far too slowly for my patience. The sooner we get to the Lone Islands, the sooner we'll get to mainland Narnia, and the sooner I can go home to the sprites. My mother and Ainslie can help me get back to normal, I'm sure. And above all, it'll just be nice to be _home._ Everyone is kind to me on the _Dawn Treader_, but it's not home. And I miss my family.

One day while I'm sulking and sitting on the rail of the ship, the king joins me. Well, after glancing at my face to make sure I'm not in one of my bite-your-head-off-and-eat-it-for-dessert moods.

"Sometimes talking about it will help," he offers quietly, clearly treading carefully. Smart guy.

I keep my mouth pressed closed, my lips in a firm line.

King Caspian sighs and sinks against his forearms that lean against the rail next to me. He waits, I guess for me to speak up, but I never do.

"Laurah, please. I hate seeing you like this," he pleads softly, looking up at my mannequin-like face.

"Why do you care?" I grumble. Doesn't he have something better to do?

"You would not believe me, even if I told you." His smile is equal parts wry and sad, and it's a strange smile as a result.

I resist an urge to roll my eyes, but it's hard. My mouth opens the slightest bit. Quickly, I clamp it closed again, before anything slips out. I can deal with my own nightmares. They're just dreams anyway.

The king notices me absent-mindedly fiddling with my bracelet.

"You miss them."

"Of course I do. I haven't seen them in over a year." My next words slip out before I can stop them. "And I owe my mother a thank you." I pause, and then more words slip out. "She helped me, in Dark Island. Told me I didn't suffer alone, sang to me, got rid of the snake the first time it made an appearance. She helped a lot." I start missing my sprite mother almost too much to bear then, but I make sure my face betrays nothing.

"What happened to you there?" he asks, almost too softly to hear.

"A crap-load of mist showed me weird stuff. That's all."

"I knew as much."

My tone lowers in response to his doing so first. "Then why did you bother to ask?"

"I hoped you would trust me enough to tell me at least one specific thing. Forgive me, I apparently misjudged," he states bluntly, his hands curling into fists as his jaw hardens.

"There's nothing to tell! Shit happened, I got over it!" I try to keep from yelling, but my voice ends up being just shy of it.

"Why can you not let anyone in? You push everyone away, when all we wish to do is help you!" King Caspian's voice raises too, and he ends up yelling, but in a reserved, dangerously contained way.

"How will talking about it help?! I'm trying to forget it; the last thing I want to do is go over every little detail!" I yell, my eyes flashing in anger as I whip my head to look at him full-on.

"Talking about it is a release. It would help you let go, rather than simply hiding from it." He no longer yells, but his voice still rumbles with a low, angry undertone.

I've had just about enough. No, I've had enough, period. So I swing my legs over the rail, slide off the rail, and land on the deck with a thump. It's not late afternoon yet, but I still stomp over to the kitchen. I'm working in there even if Cook says otherwise. I need the distraction, before I scream out all my frustration at the whole ship. And that's the last thing I'd need. They already see me as weak; that'd do nothing to help my case.

When I toss open the kitchen door, I'm almost relieved to see Cook there.

"You're early, lass."

"I know, just please give me something to do." My fingers curl and uncurl impatiently, and I easily catch the apron Cook throws to me.

"Start dicin' these then." He beckons me over to the carrots he's just started cutting up, and shoves the knife into my hand.

I happily follow the order, and every other one he gives me. He hums quietly, but I don't join in this time. If I contribute at all, it's just by the pounding out a rough rhythm as I chop vegetables.

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><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

Once Laurah storms off, the red flag goes up. I didn't hear what those two were saying, but Cas looks just as mad as she was, and I'm taking it as my civic duty to smooth things over. At least, I'll see if I can calm Cas down. The poor thing's had more than a rough time lately.

As I walk up, I notice that he's been joined by Lilliandil, and I sigh in relief. If anyone can chill people's strong emotions out, it's that star. I approach quietly, flinching when Caspian slams his fist against the rail and smiling in relief when Lilli covers his fist with her glowing hand, and unclenches his hand. That girl's like the wise older sister he never had, I swear.

I come up and stand on his other side, and I'm very happy to see that he's not quite as angry as I thought. Lilli can work some magic, I tell ya.

"Does she shut you out too, Nikki?" Cas suddenly asks, sounding more sad than angry now.

I purse my lips and reply, "Sure, sometimes. Not often, but it happens. Good news is, she always comes around. That help?"

"Perhaps a little, yes. Thank you."

"Do not forget how far she has come already, Your Majesty. When you first found her, she would not even speak."

"But her preference for leaving me in the dark about the important things has not changed in the slightest," he retorts, a frown taking over his face.

"I think I must tell you something she told me a short time ago. It may help you understand her a little better."

"One would think I should understand her rather well by now," grumbles this very grumpy king.

"Cas?" I wait until he turns and looks at me before saying sternly, "Shut up and let Lilli fill you in."

He looks shocked, and understandably so. I reckon, being a king and all, he can count on one hand how many times anyone's told him to shut up. But hey, tough love, right? Just like the whap on the back of the head I gave him at Ramandu's Island. I nod to Lilli when I'm sure he'll keep his trap shut, and she proceeds.

"One morning I asked her why she closed herself off to everyone else. Her reply was surprisingly simple. She feels immensely guilty for being so, in her opinion, weak when the mist still occupied her mind. Laurah, in her own words, is used to being strong for others. In her eyes, she failed this time, to be strong. Her walled heart is her attempt at rectifying that 'weakness'."

Wow. Even I didn't know that. Lilli really needs to stick around; Laurah tells her more than even me! Which I don;t mind at all. Whatever works for her works for me.

"Well that makes a crap-load of sense," I mutter, looking to Cas to see his take on this newly divulged information. Luckily, he seems to take it rather well.

He nods once, as if acquiescing to this explanation of Laurah's behavior. His forehead loses its tension lines, and I can't resist the urge to chime in.

"There we go! The worry wrinkles are all gone!"

This earns me a small chuckle from Cas, and I do a little happy dance at my successful attempt at lightening his mood.

"Alright Cas, your turn."

He sobers enough to look at me in confusion, but I can see Lilli smiling in approval.

"Come on. We got inside Laurah's head. Your turn to spill what's going on in yours. Get deep, now. Like ice fishing! Fish deep, man. Talk feelings," I explain, gesturing in my sometimes over-the-top way to emphasize the 'fish deep' part.

The guy give me an amused look before sighing and nodding obediently. He's learned by now that arguing with me is essentially useless.

"I still love her. She infuriates me when she shuts me out, but I love her nonetheless. Though I must admit, it hurts more than I thought it would."

I press my lips together and nod sympathetically, and Lilliandil briefly puts a comforting hand on his arm. We both motion for him to continue, but he has to take a deep breath first.

"When she vanished three years ago, I thought I might die from the worry. By the time this voyage started, I resigned myself to her death or eternal absence."

Poor Cas hangs his head before continuing.

"Then we found her, and at first it was so much to take in that she was simply here, in Narnia. Alive. I suppose I was foolish in hoping for us to return to what we were before her disappearance. The closeness to her I enjoyed three years ago is no longer here, and it's painful, to have her back in some ways but not in others. She's no longer mine." Another pause, and then, "It hurts when I love her and try to be good to her, and all she can do is push me away. I cannot help but think that pushing away is all she knows how to do anymore."

"Cas, that was some awesome soul-searching, and I am eternally proud of you. Lilli, thoughts? You're much better at giving solid advice."

"There is not much that can be done. Laurah needs time, and perhaps you do as well, Your Highness. Time may not heal all wounds, but it can dull the pain that surrounds them."

Caspian stays still, with his head bowed and his arms stiff from holding him up against the railing, for a good minute or two before looking up and smiling.

"Thank you to both of you," he begins sincerely, but quickly switches gears into a more light-hearted tone. "I daresay you both are the wise elder sisters I never had."

"Aw, no problemo! Don't you worry Cas, she'll come around. Trust me, I've known the chica for over a decade," I reassure him. And she will come around, I know it. Even if I have to give her several vigorous shakes and konk her on the noggin a few times to get the point across. Tough love is important. After all, it's karma too. She shoved me toward MopMan the other day, for heaven's sake!

"I do hope you're right, Nikki." Caspian replies, but with a more hopeful face than before.

With any luck, these two might finally work things out. Maybe.

I'm distracted from my thoughts when I catch sight of MopMan swaggering across deck out of the corner of my eye. It almost looks like he's walking to the tune of a very upbeat song. Whatever he's doing, it's some mixture of strange and funny, so I giggle, excuse myself from Cas and Lilli, and waltz over to the crazy, curly-haired sailor.

"MopMan, what in tarnation are you doing?"

"I am dancing, my lady."

"To what, may I ask?" I let the 'my lady' slide.

"An old ditty," he replies with a grin, proceeding to hum the tune for me.

"You know, that's actually got an almost-jive beat to it. I might could make it work..." I start dancing the jive along with MopMan's humming, and to my great surprise, I can make the two work together.

"Alright MopMan, I'm teaching you the jive."

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><p><strong>Laurah POV:<strong>

As I work, some of my anger wears off and I settle down into a steady rhythm. I've moved from chopping vegetables to cleaning as Cook prepares the food. He's still humming a few sailor's chanteys, and I'm humming along quietly.

When dinner's still a good hour away from being ready, Nikki comes in and volunteers to help too. At Cook's nod, she comes and joins me by the sink. I wait patiently for the reprimand I'm sure to get.

"Chica, you are a complete and utter idiot. You know that?"

"Now I do. Thanks for bringing it to my attention."

"You're welcome. Now, get your sorry little tushy over to Caspian. Yes, right now."

"Nikki, I have to help with din-"

"Why do you think I'm in here helping? Go!" She shoves at me, and swats my arm when I refuse to budge.

"He's probably still cooling down. I'll go and see the man after dinner, okay?"

I'm rewarded for my attempt at compromise with a rather vehement smack on the backside with a wooden spoon, to which I respond with an indignant shriek.

"Chica, if you don't get yourself out to Caspian this very instant, I swear I'll handcuff you two together until you kiss him!"

"Alright alright, I'm going." I know she'll make good on her threat. She's Nikki, and Nikki Stevens never goes back on a good threat, especially if it's a motivating one. But I think of a way to get her back, and it's too amusing to ignore. "But only if you give Sadrian a kiss and put the poor child out of his misery."

A resounding clatter and bang echoes in the kitchen as the pan Nikki was holding slips through her fingers and crashes to the counter.

"I beg your pardon? I haven't the pleasure of understanding you," she splutters, sounding very much like she just swallowed several lungfuls of seawater.

"You heard me. I go talk to Caspian, you lock lips with your MopMan. Deal?" I try very very hard not to bust out laughing at her expression of utter disbelief. "It's a one-time offer. Going once..."

"I swear by all the gods above and below, I'll get you for this!"

"Going twice..."

"Fine! Fine fine fine! But just you wait, I'll skin you alive for that!"

"Figuratively speaking, of course," I say with a rather triumphant smirk.

"Maybe. Go on now! Kiss and make up!" screeches Nikki, flapping the drying towel at my face insistently.

"I'll consent to the latter half of that only," I reply, taking cover behind the door as she throws a fork at me. Peeking back in, I see the silverware stuck in the wooden door by its tongs, and I allow myself a merry chuckle before closing the door behind me and making my way back on deck.

It's very tempting to just go to my favorite perch on the dragon's tongue, but I know Nikki might throw me overboard if I don't do as she ordered. I have to laugh again, shaking my head fondly as my best friend. I'll be thanking her later, I'm sure. And in the meantime, I still can't help but love her for her persistence and utter determination.

I catch sight of the king sitting on the steps that lead up to the poop deck, and I can't help my prayer that he doesn't notice me. If he does, he makes no outward sign of it. So thankfully, I've got at least a little time to mentally prepare. Though I'd really rather just avoid the man until I can cool down some more. But according to Nikki, that's really not an option. Not if I don't want to be handcuffed to him for the rest of the voyage, because I am not kissing him again.

Still, it's now or never. If I don't go up to him now, I'll procrastinate until I can escape to dinner, and then Nikki really will have my head on a platter. So I force myself to walk toward him, and it turns out to be even harder to not get angry again. He looks up the second he hears my footsteps, and he surprises me by smiling softly and patting the space next to him on the step. I hesitate, but I sit when Nikki's threat rings in my ears once more.

"Did she threaten to throw you off the ship?"

"No, actually. Though I have no doubt she'd have no qualms about doing so," I laugh, surprising myself and him with my ease. "And before I say anything else, I'm just gonna apologize and get it off my chest. So...I'm sorry. About snapping at you. I shouldn't have taken a few nightmares out on you." The apology spills out of my mouth before I even think about it, but I do feel better after saying it. I surprise myself by really and truly meaning it.

The king stills my fidgeting hands with his warm, steady ones. I peek over at him through my eyelashes, and relief floods me when he seems to be back to normal.

"It's alright."

That simple little acceptance of my apology relaxes me so much I make a note to smack myself out of it later.

"May I ask one thing?" The king's eyes sparkle as he lifts my chin with the tip of his index finger. He waits for my nod, and proceeds to catch my very off guard. "Promise to call me just Caspian?"

"Er...um...sure?" Of all the things I was prepared for, that wasn't one of them. I didn't think it mattered that much to him.

His grin almost makes me smile back, it's so happy.

"Try it out?"

"Okay. So, _Caspian_, what d'ya want to talk about?" I'll have to get used to calling him Caspian, without his title.

"Perhaps we could attempt our earlier conversation again?"

Fantastic.

"Fine. What's it you'd like to know? Home life or current dreams?" Actually, I'd prefer to blab about my human home. Oddly enough.

"Whichever you prefer." Kin- Caspian is back to his solicitous self, and I can't say I mind.

"Home life it is. But it's up to you to ask questions." I may have agreed to share a little bit about myself, but I'm not about to give it away freely.

"Very well." He sits and thinks for several moments before asking a pretty basic question. "Tell me about your human parents?"

"One's recently out of an abusive relationship and the other's cold in his grave," I rattle off rather unfeelingly.

Caspian flinches and starts to put an arm around me to comfort me, but I shrug indifferently.

"It's no biggie. I'm fine with it. He was a jackass anyway. Mom's better off without the lout."

"And you miss him still," Caspian murmurs. I hate that he's right, and I have to swallow my temper.

"I've been missing him since I was eight. I'm used to it by now."

"Did he..." Caspian looks uncomfortable, and he can't seem to get the word 'die' past his lips.

"Die when I was eight? No, he died maybe a month after I went back there from here."

Caspian looks at me, and he's trying so hard to keep his curiosity hidden from me. It's sweet that he's being so careful, but being blunt about everything helps me work past it.

"You don't have to worry about me on this. I'm not sensitive about it. It's been over a year; I'm okay." The last bit comes out more gently than I intended, but I don't really mind.

"I'm sorry, I only wished to be respectful."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just pretty...blunt about all this. Keeps it nice and numb, you know?"

Why am I even telling him that?

He nods his understanding, and silently motions for me to go on. At first, my answers remain short, clipped, and harshly apathetic. Then, somehow, I loosen up. I don't shrug away from Caspian's arm when it moves toward my shoulders a second time, and my eyes start to sting a little. As I tell the man sitting beside me more and more, I start feeling again. A few tears leak from my eyes from time to time as I tell Caspian everything about my dad and my human mom, right down to the last night my dad was alive, and he wipes them away with his thumb before I can swipe them away on my own.

"...And that is why I don't talk about that. I turn into a leaky faucet when I think about it too much," I grumble half-heartedly. Despite my complaint, I can't muster the will to be sorry about telling Caspian everything about my childhood and my human parents.

When I'm finally done, I let out a relieved little laugh.

"Well now that you know all about me, what about you?"

"You wish to hear my story?" Caspian sounds a little surprised, but not too averse to the idea.

"Fair's fair. Start with your earliest memory and go from there, if you like." In truth, I'm curious about him. I want to know more about this kind and gentle man who has more patience than a hundred me's.

And he then proceeds to tell me about his parents, especially his father. Neither are still living. He tells me about being raised by his Uncle Miraz, and how he was always fascinated by the old tales of Narnia, and how his uncle forbade his Professor, Professor Cornelius, from teaching him about any of the stories. He tells me of years of pressure and fear, and how it all came to fruition three years ago when his Professor woke him in the middle of the night to help him escape from his uncle's death warrant. His aunt had given birth to a son, and Miraz wanted Caspian out of the way. He tells me about finding the Narnians, leading them in a war to reclaim their homeland, and finally about their victory and the hard-fought peace that Narnia now enjoyed. The mist was the only disturbance of that peace.

By the time he's done telling me all about his history, I've warmed up to him so much that I willingly lace my fingers with his and kiss his cheek.

"Well ironically enough, both our childhoods really sucked. I guess we do have something in common after all," I comment, squeezing his hand to make sure he knows that it wasn't a biting remark.

"Yes, my lady, it seems we do. And there is something else as well..."

"What?"

"We have both missed dinner."

"Well dang. We've been talking that long?" I didn't even notice Cook banging the pot lids together.

"Are you sorry for it?"

I can tell he's not, and I can't be either.

"Nope. It was worth it."

He smiles widely at my declaration, and gives me a hesitant hug that I readily return.

That night, I do give him a goodnight kiss.

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><p>A few days later, we reach the Lone Islands. At last. Nikki notes with satisfaction my improved mood, and I can feel myself warming up again. My nightmares get worse each night, but I learn to dismiss them as soon as morning comes. Even the ones of Ainslie, my mom, Rhoslyn, Nikki, and even Lilliandil each being the sprite Caspian and I saw at the rocky island a little while ago. I don't mention those to anyone.<p>

I never really got to know many of the Lone Islanders, so I hang back while they board the longboats. But Caspian motions for Nikki and me to come along too, so we do. It'll be nice to stretch our legs at least. And there'll be a lot of joy when these people come home, so that'll be nice to see.

A great cheer rises up as the long-absent Lone Islanders return to their families and homes, and they're all so grateful to Caspian and the _Dawn Treader_ crew that it almost brings tears to my eyes. Nikki sniffles a bit too, and we laugh at each other. She then reminds me that I never told her what happened with Caspian and me a few days ago when she literally forced me to go talk to him. By the time I finish, she's wearing that smug 'I told you so' look and grinning like a fool. She even lets out a little shriek of joy when I tell her that yes, I did actually kiss and make up.

Just then, she whips me around and points at a young man helping an older lady in the distance. It takes me a moment, but I recognize the young man to be Caspian. My smile softens, and I feel something tugging at my heart.

"He's a good man, chica. And I approve." She leaves me with no clarification on that last bit, and simply smirks all-knowingly at me when I ask what she means.

But she is right. Caspian is a good man. And he's tugging at my heart.

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><p><strong>Here we go, another chapter in a day! Now just a heads up: my weekend is going to be pretty busy, but I'll still try to have another chapter to you by the day after tomorrow. ;) So it'll be an extra day, but it's better than 4 months, right? XD<strong>

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter!**

**Until next time :)**


	26. Chapter 25

**Another chapter, as promised! And NaNo is starting in less than 15 minutes, so I'm keeping this brief XD**

**But I do have to say thank you to all you readers, followers, and favoriters! And muchas gracias to Evy201, Alissiel, Garideth, IsThatBloodInYourMustache, and NymphadoraLupin98 for revewing so loyally! I've been dancing around my house over your comments!**

**Enjoy, and rest sure in the knowledge that I'll still be updating this at this speed until the story's done!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

**Laurah POV:**

By the time everyone's been returned to their homes on the Lone Islands, it's well past nightfall. But naturally, they start a whole celebration. It's understandable, considering some of these people have been missing for months on end, some even a good year. Someone starts playing a lively tune on a flute-like instrument, and others start bringing out food into the city square. A few of the smaller children begin dancing, and they tug on the adults' hands impatiently. Several couples, presumably parents to some of the dancing children, join the fun, and eventually half the people are dancing and the other half are clapping along and passing around mugs of ale or beer or cider.

"Come on chica, let's go! I've missed dancing!" Nikki twirls on her tiptoes and tries to pull me into the dance by my arm, but I wrench myself free of her grasp. I've got a much, much better idea.

"How about you get your MopMan dancing, Nikki? And while you're at it, don't forget to fulfill your end of the deal," I order in my best Nikki-voice, thinking I could perhaps threaten her like she does me.

"What deal?" she squeaks, attempting to blink innocently and failing miserably.

"You know what deal. Now get your rear end over to Sadrian and dance with the boy, or I shall be forced to throw you into the water." It takes all my willpower to hide my smirk, though I'm sure my eyes are twinkling.

"You wouldn't!" Nikki's far too sure of this. I'll have to catch her off guard to make good on my threat, if she won't uphold her half of the bargain.

"Come now Nikki, would it kill you to kiss the boy just once? Do remember that I did exactly as you asked with regard to Caspian." I purposely make my voice sickeningly sweet, because it's so much more amusing that way.

"Is everything alright you two?" Caspian jogs up to us, clearly curious about the seething Nikki in front of me and my obvious amusement with the situation.

"Oh everything's dandy, I'm just trying to get Nikki to keep her word on a little agreement we had a few days ago," I respond, looking very pointedly at Nikki.

"What was this agreement?" Caspian swallows a laugh as he asks, and I can't help but like the way his lips twitch in amusement.

I stand on my tiptoes and whisper the whole thing into his ear, and I pretend not to notice when he leans toward me ever-so-slightly.

"Nikki, I am afraid I must agree with Laurah on this."

"What?! Caspian you traitor!" Nikki screeches, swinging at him with a half-formed fist. It only earns her two laughs when she misses. Oh Nikki, you stubborn old thing...

"Caspian, would you excuse me for just one moment?" I whisper, my eyes twinkling with my plan. When he nods his assent, his own eyes sparkling in mirth, I turn on my heel and walk straight out of the square. I know Nikki'll be right on my heels. In fact, I'm counting on it.

Sure enough, her stomps can be heard coming after me, and she hollers several threats at me. She'll be shushed soon enough. I ignore her and keep on my course, and by the time I reach the docks, she's right behind me.

"Chica I swear, by the time I'm done with you, you'll- Oof!" Nikki stops talking as she unceremoniously runs into my back.

We're on the edge of the dock now, and if I take another step forward I'll tip into the water. Perfect.

Quick as a flash, I spin around and shove Nikki right into the water.

"I told you I'd throw you in the water," I call, holding in my hooting laughter for all I'm worth.

When Nikki resurfaces, she splutters and and snorts the saltwater from her nose.

"Alright. Fine. I'll do it," she bites out, though I can see the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"Go ahead and laugh, Nikki. I'm gonna." I do, too. I laugh long and hard, and I keep laughing as Nikki glowers at me while she climbs out of the water. Soon she starts laughing too, and we link arms as we slog our way back to the city square.

"Now MopMan's gonna ask why I'm all wet, you know. You could've picked better timing, chica."

"Kiss him and then explain. It's a simple enough solution." I'm very much looking forward to this. After all, it's just karma! Nikki's practically shoved me and Caspian together; now it's my turn to do a little shoving.

"Fine fine fine. But I'll do it only when I'm ready. Got it?"

"As long as you do it tonight, you can kiss the boy whenever or however you like," I reply with a very self-satisfied smirk. Ah, revenge is so very sweet.

Caspian's eyebrows almost jump off his forehead when a dripping-wet Nikki and a smiling me walk up.

"I see you made good by your threat, Laurah," he comments as a chuckle huffs its way out of his throat.

"Yep, I did. And she's going to uphold her end of the deal now. Aren't you, Nikki?" I wheedle.

"Sure. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find some dry clothes."

"Don't disappear for the night!" I call after her.

"Not a chance! You know me and how I love a good dance!"

I chuckle to myself as she disappears in search of something dry to put on, and Caspian joins me heartily. When he sobers, he holds out his hand to me.

"May I have this dance?"

I duck my head as my cheeks tinge pink, but I place my hand in his.

Luckily my slight blush fades by the time the light from the torches hits my face. I barely have time to grin at Caspian before we're both swept off into the fast-paced jig the musicians have just started playing. Within a half a second, I've lost track of him.

A grin blossoms on my face as I spin from one partner to the next, and everything around the dancers becomes one massive blur. My feet move so fast even I can barely keep up with them while a great laugh of sheer thrill bubbles its way past my lips. Briefly, I touch hands with Caspian again and we spin around each other for barely a full second before we're swept off again into the swirling, swelling pulse of the dance. As the music reaches its frenzied crescendo, I find myself back with my original partner, Caspian, and we fly the last few steps together.

"That was...a lot of fun!" I'm gasping for breath, but my smile seems too wide for my face. On impulse and my dancer's high, I fling my arms around Caspian's neck and cling to him tightly. It's a 'thank you' and a 'that was awesome!' and a convenient way to catch my breath all rolled into one.

I have to smile even wider when I feel his arms wind around my waist. I almost laugh when they tighten and I realize that they can wrap around my waist one and a half times. I guess I haven't gained back enough weight yet.

Another song starts, though it's a little slower then the last one. I peek over Caspian's shoulder to see Nikki and Sadrian among the dancers, and my eyes twinkle triumphantly. Maybe a kiss can get those two to sober up and do something other than joke 24/7. They're precious when they're arguing and teasing each other, but if they're going to get anywhere, a quick moment of seriousness couldn't hurt.

"Are you returning Nikki's favor, Laurah?" Caspian asks quietly against my ear, his breath tickling the skin right behind it.

"Returning a favor? Please, this is plain and simple revenge."

* * *

><p><strong>Nikki POV:<strong>

Even though I've managed to find dry clothes, my hair remains a dripping wet mess as I find MopMan and tug him into the lively dance. As luck would have it, it's the first thing he notices. Little rat always does like to get me bristled.

"Why Miss Nikki, how did your hair become so water-logged?"

I'd dearly love to smack that simpering grin clean off his freckled face. But as per Laurah's and my deal, it looks like I'm supposed to kiss him instead of hit him. But only when I feel like it.

"I got thrown in the water, genius. How else would it get wet?" I wheedle right back as the dance brings us together again. The timing works out more perfectly than I could've planned; we split up once more the moment I'm finished replying.

"Why?" he asks when I'm close enough to hear. He's a curious one, I'll give him that much.

I'd still like to whap him.

"I almost broke a deal." I'm half-hoping the music will drown out my words.

"What was this deal?"

MopMan's eyes do sparkle in a kind of cute way when he's all curious like this. It shows up especially well with his sea-foam green eyes.

"Wait and find out." If I decide to go through with it, that is.

The dance ends, but I don't want to stop dancing just yet, so I just stay in the group. MopMan drops out, and I'll have to remember to tease him about that later. For now though, I can just dance my little tushy off.

After another five songs, the stitch in my side finally catches up to me. Hey, stitch, like sewing! How did people come up with that phrase anyway?

Immediately, I begin humming 'Do Re Mi' from a musical I loved as a kid. I should really watch it more often...it's called...oh rats on deck, what's it called? The Sound of Music, I think.

"What is it you hum so happily, Nikki?"

"Sew, a needle pulling threaaaaaad! La, a note to follow sooooooooo! Tea, a drink with jam and breaaaaaad! That will bring us back to do oh oh oh oh oh oh..." I grin at my opera-style rendition of the classic, and repeat the 'oh oh oh's until I run out of breath, silently daring MopMan to top such a performance.

"Is this a song?"

"What does it sound like, smart one?" I snicker, tipping my head to look at him as goofily as I can.

"Well..."

Oh, blast it all!

I lean forward and quickly fulfill my end of the bargain. Thank goodness this isn't my first kiss, otherwise I'd have been flipping out slightly about how it's done. Judging by MopMan's gentle but maybe slightly enthusiastic reaction, this isn't his first kiss either, though I can tell he isn't overly experienced. Thank goodness, because I'm not horribly experienced either. Amazingly, every last syllable of that manages to sweep through my head in the two-seconds I kiss MopMan.

"You know you can talk a little too much sometimes?" I whisper this to keep things from getting serious.

I pull away just as quickly as I leaned in, and I'm planning an impressively quick escape. Unfortunately for embarrassed lil' ol' me, MopMan's expecting just this, and grabs my arm before I can run for the hills. If there were any hills to run for, that is. Everything's pretty flat around here, especially the ocean. Wait, scratch that. The ocean almost makes me seasick.

"Wait Nikki. Don't you dare run off like that."

I tip my head sideways to stare at him. "MopMan, that is the first time I've heard you talk like me. Contractions and everything!"

For the first time in the month or two since I've known him, MopMan just looks at me and doesn't say anything. Is he drunk?

"What? You're just staring at me...what?"

"Perhaps we could be serious for one minute?"

How did MopMan manage to sound gentle and sweet? He's obviously kershnookered.

"Alright, one minute starting now. Shoot, chief." 60, 59, 58...

"May I simply get to know you a little better?"

55,54...

"How so?"

"Well...what's your favorite color?"

I have to pause, because why would he ask that? Oh, right. This whole getting-to-know-me business.

"Red. It's all spicy and feisty and reminiscent of Latin dancing. Also, it goes with any skin tone. And yours is?" I save my comment about MopMan's little boyish grin for another time. Like, when his minute's up. 32 seconds.

"Light grey, the color of rain clouds. I do love a good rainstorm, because it makes everything fresh again."

"Wow, that's kind of...beautiful, in a manly kind of way." 18 seconds left though.

"Thank you. What is your earliest memory?"

"Well I don't remember my own birth. Let's see...I was five, I think. Maybe six...anyway, I'd snuck into my big brother's room the day before and thrown one of his LEGO creations out the window, so the next day he snuck into my room and stole my favorite teddy bear, the one I'd slept with every night since I was in the crib. I cried for days when I couldn't find it, and when I told my mom, she made him tell me where it was. He'd fed to the family hamster, so it was nothing but shredded fluff. That hamster would shred anything, and it was pure evil." I wrinkle my nose as I remember that ball of beastishness.

MopMan can't decide whether to laugh or express condolences, so I trill out a little laugh to let him know that it's funny enough to laugh at. Huh, how any seconds are left again? I lost track...

"What was the hamster's name?"

"Yzma. She was a psychotic villain in one of my favorite childhood cartoons. My mom swears Yzma's her favorite villain of all time, so she named the blasted hamster after her. And people say I'm crazy...I was honestly relieved when that rodent of evil died. Alright, what's yours?"

MopMan finishes laughing at my hamster-hatin' eventually, and by the time he's done I'm sure the minute's up. ButI don't mind this too horribly much. It's kinda fun, if only because I can rat on Yzma the dead hamster.

"My earliest memory is of my father showing me the sea. I have no idea of my age at the time, but one day after a thunderstorm, my father took me outside and we walked down to the cliffs. The water was still churning from the storm's disturbance, yet the waves breaking on the cliffs lent the place a calming signature. It was the first time I had gone to the cliffs."

"I'm guessing you found your love of the sea then?"

"I suppose so, yes." He smiles at me again, and I have to give it to him: this was kind of a good idea. It was fun. Not in a potato-knocking-out-Caspian kind of way, but as in sating curiosity.

"Okay, that was a good idea. However, the minute is up." I'm almost sorry to say it, but I have my reputation to look after. Can't have a girl go back on her set laws, can we?

"Perhaps another several minutes?" he pleads in his classic puppy-dog style, but I'm ashamed that this time it works. Ashamed, but kind of not sorry. Maybe kind of happy.

"Alright MopMan, next question?"

* * *

><p><strong>Laurah POV:<strong>

When I finally get to bed in the wee hours of the morning, I'm praying for a good night's sleep. I've had a wonderful day, after all. I witnessed more joy than I've ever seen in my life when the Lone Islanders found their families again, I got to dance at the festival, and Nikki upheld her end of the deal and had a few moments with Sadrian. Though I was a little surprised Sadrian's teen hormones didn't kick in and they didn't end up making out right then and there. But that's a good sign anyhow.

I nod off quickly, but I cry myself awake before I've even slept an hour. I'm instantly glad I was one of the few who wanted to bed down on the _Dawn Treader_, since my cry was loud enough anyone else in the same room would've heard, and there's an eerie green glow coming from somewhere right next to me they'd have seen. But tonight, I'm the only one here in the cabin. I think it used to be Caspian's, but he insisted on the women taking it, or so Nikki tells me. It sounds true, knowing the king and his impeccable chivalry.

Still, tonight the cabin isn't the place for me. I need to be out in the open air, to breathe. And to cry. Thankfully, I'm the only living soul on deck. Still, I go to my little spot in the dragon's mouth, just in case someone does happen along.

At least I wasn't in love with him. Not yet, anyway. But now I know that I shouldn't be, and I can't be, and because of that I won't be. At least I didn't have to find a way to fall out of love with him. At least things weren't too serious between us yet. Better to know now than find out later. But it made perfect sense, it really did. He needed someone like...like...well, her. She matches him perfectly. That dream was trying to tell me so. And maybe I shouldn't be in the way. Yes, that was a good thought. I shouldn't be in the way. I guess I'm distracting him, that his past with me is influencing his present too much.

Maybe I should just go.

I couldn't stay anyhow. A sprite was behind Dark Island, behind my little foray in insanity and behind the kidnappings of dozens of Lone Islanders. I'm a sprite, and so that makes it kind of my responsibility to find out who did all that, and why. Besides, Lilliandil did suggest that I figure it out. She's very wise, so I'd be a fool to ignore her advice.

I know exactly what I'm going to do when we reach mainland Narnia now. We can't get there fast enough.

* * *

><p>The celebrations in the Lone Islands last several days, but I'm relieved when they're over. Now we can be on our way. I've been able to avoid Caspian fairly well with the crowds, but it's not easy. The king of Narnia is still tugging at my heart, no matter how much I don't want him to. Maybe with time it'll fade. I hope it will. I don't want to miss his goodnight kisses and his hugs and his warm hands wrapped around mine for longer than I have to.<p>

When we set sail at last, I quickly scurry to my spot in the dragon's mouth before anyone can talk to me. I like being alone, especially I can't tell anyone what happens once we make port in Narnia. I just hope I can somehow find who that sprite was. And I dearly hope it's not any of the sprites I know. I'm fairly sure it isn't, because no sprite I'm even remotely acquainted with could do anything half as horrible.

I only venture out of the dragon's mouth to help Cook before and after dinner. I don't eat with the crew, mainly because I just don't feel like eating. I don't feel like sleeping either, really. After a few days at sea I look wryly down at my still-bony frame and thank the stars I don't have a man to impress. I know how my backbone sticks out when I arch my back isn't anywhere near attractive.

Nikki eventually figures out my hiding place and, being Nikki, naturally informs Caspian as to my whereabouts. Luckily, neither of them disturb me much after several attempts at conversation fall flat. Lilliandil is actually my most frequent visitor, and she's my favorite too. She doesn't try to get me to talk about why I'm suddenly a recluse, and she doesn't talk to me unless I ask her a question. She just comes to keep me company, and I'm grateful that at least someone understands that plain and simple company void of conversation is all I can accept right now. It's all I want right now, and probably all I can handle.

The weeks pass slow as molasses, and I try to ignore the growing pain in my chest when I see Caspian and Lilliandil and Nikki talking together, very closely together. But I don't begrudge any of them for it; I have no claim over Caspian, after all. But one day, as I'm laying on my stomach observing the ship from my perch, I see just him, alone, leaning on the rail and letting the wind blow his almost-black hair across his face. I stare at him, slowly memorizing every detail of his form. I don't do it on purpose, but it happens automatically and I don't have the heart to stop myself once I've started.

I focus first on his face: the gentle square of his jaw, the dip where his chin goes in to meet the bottom of his mouth, the slope of his nose and the way it rounds before cutting back toward his face, the smooth plane of his forehead creased ever so slightly right now, the slight protrusion of his brow-bone over his eyes, the generous bow of his lips, the exact pattern of the beginnings of his beard, still growing on his cheeks that tan a little more every day from constant exposure to the sun. Then my gaze travels to his hair, just starting to grow past his shoulders, neither coarse nor fine, and pleasant to run my fingers through. My eyes memorize the soft curve of his back as he leans onto his forearms, the slight raising of his shoulders as he sinks a bit further into his elbows, the easy transition from torso to lower body to leg. He's built proportionately, and thus his shape is even and pleasing to the eye in almost any pose. His knee bends as he stays bent forward against the rail and held up by his arms, and I trace the easy bend of his knee and of his boot as his weight shifts to the ball of that bent foot. Every last detail is engrained in my memory, and I don't look away until he moves out of my line of sight.

A mere five days later, the first glimpse of Narnia appears in the distance.

* * *

><p>The timbers of the ship groan under my feet as the <em>Dawn Treader<em> slowly makes port, her royal purple sail no longer billowing forward with the wind. A huge crowd has gathered to welcome their king and the crew home after their long voyage, the joy unmistakable on their faces. I wish selfishly for a moment, that I could feel but a taste of their happiness.

A soft breeze blows my hair in front of and across my face as I allow a single tear to escape my eyes and trail down my cheek. It doesn't seem so bad right now; he isn't anywhere near me – he's probably talking with her. I suppose I was right, that night I dreamed of him and her. Intuition really doesn't lie, does it?

My ears pick up the sound of boots walking across the deck, toward me. I don't even have to look to know who it is - I know the sound of his footsteps better than I know the sound of my own heartbeat. Why does he do this? Why torture me like this? Why does he continue to seek me out, though I've made it quite apparent I have no interest in talking anymore?

I stand ready to disembark the minute I can, but I'm so afraid that minute won't come soon enough. I don't want to talk with him anymore, we've done plenty of that and the only thing he'd wanted to discuss remained the nightmares I still refuse to share even with Nikki and Lilliandil. My will is hardened after having to grow up long before I was ready back home, and I've remained as stubborn as ever. My secrets are my own, and my visions and dreams are my burden to carry; mine alone, and no one else's. I remember him telling me that talking helps, but it won't help now.

Finally, the gangway is in place, and I step off the _Dawn Treader_ without a moment's hesitation just as the boots came close enough that he could have reached out and touched my shoulder had I stayed put. But I've been running from him for over a month already; I don't wait for him to come to me anymore.

"Laurah? Laurah!"

I hear him calling for me, but I'm not going back. Half of me wants to desperately, the other half knows better, much better. And so I set my jaw and begin making my way through the crowd as quickly as I can without it being obvious that I'm on the run. I'm ever so careful to not draw attention, and I've gotten rather talented at avoiding it when I wanted to back at the place I used to call home.

My body is small and wiry, smaller than ever since I haven't felt like eating in days, allowing me to slip through the masses of people with relative ease. Most of them are so focused on the return of the _Dawn Treader_ that they don't even notice me squeeze past them. I make sure the tears trailing down my face are silent, holding in any sobs with a will I haven't felt in a long time. A hysteria is slowly beginning to creep through my veins, a hysteria that puts the agony I'd felt so long ago after dreaming of leaving Narnia and my sprite family to shame.

I don't look back, though he's still calling my name. My eyes focus on the forest, the last place I can turn to, and nothing else. Healing seems to linger inside the safety of the trees, a healing I desperately need. Fighting off the urge to let myself break down, I try to shove the events of the voyage out of my head, but to no avail. They torment my mind, taunting me with the memories, so many memories. Of a mist as deadly as it was crafty, of a sprite who's identity remains a mystery, of falling for one I could never have. _She_ is better for him; she is a better…friend to him than I could ever have hoped to be. How could I have been so foolish? How could I have hoped to mean anything to him? How did I ever think he might love me? So many questions plague my thoughts, giving me no peace from the agony that now throbs as constant as my heartbeat. The crowd is beginning to thin out a little and I can now break into a jog. His voice begins to fade away as I run faster and faster.

My feet pound on the cobblestones and my arms pump at my sides. I run past a baker's shop, the sweet scent of freshly-made bread wafting out yet holding no comfort for me. I run past the tailor's shop, vibrantly colored fabric flashing in my peripheral vision. I run past the blacksmith's, the heat from the furnace inside briefly wrapping around me as I race past. I run and run, not even noticing what I pass anymore. The comfort of the trees is close, oh so close.

I run as fast as I possibly can, momentarily noticing that his voice has faded away altogether as I try to see through the tears blurring my vision. The forest is now nothing more than a blur of brown and green, a phantom that threatens to disappear from the earth. I blink the salt water out of my eyes, the tiniest fraction of relief twinkling inside me when the forest proves to be real. Twigs snap and leaves rustle as I burst into the trees, going deeper and deeper into the ancient wood. I've become a machine now, a machine programmed to never stop, though my body shakes with the effort of staying at a full-out run.

My feet begin to stumble.

I keep running.

My knees begin to give out.

I keep running.

My muscles burn with the need to stop.

I keep running.

My heartbeat roars in my ears, my entire body shakes violently, and my lungs scream for rest, for air.

I don't stop.

I run on all I have left; I run on will alone. I don't find strength in love - there is none for me. I don't find strength thinking of him - he is not mine. I don't find strength even in myself – I'm too torn and broken, my heart shattered on the cold, hard concrete of reality. The only thing I have left is sheer will to reach the one thing I still have: family. I still have my sister, my mother; if I have nothing else, I have them.

I have no idea where in the woods I am now, nor how long I've been running. But then again, does any of that really matter? I've lost almost everything; what does it matter if I'm two steps into the forest or two thousand, if I've been running ten minutes or ten hours?

Excruciating pain pulses though my entire being - pain of leaving him, of possibly never seeing him again. I hate that I still want desperately to stay with him, despite knowing we are not meant to be, that I shouldn't love him. And so I run, hoping that desire will fade away just as his voice has. I know I can't run forever, but for now it's the one thing keeping me from completely losing it, from letting go of the cliff I'm hanging on to by my fingernails. I'm slowly slipping, but I still hang on to any last shreds of sanity left in me, though the welcoming dark beckons me into its sweet oblivion. There would be no pain in unconsciousness.

But I still force my body to its absolute limit, desperate to get as deep within the forest as possible. It seems that the deeper I go, the farther away the escalating pain will be. I run until my legs finally gave out beneath me and I fall to the ground, unable to run any more. Almost instantaneously, the agony rushes up and consumes me, leaving me with nothing to do but weep uncontrollably into the leaves. I curl up into a tight, helpless little ball as a realization strikes me, and I almost wish I had a knife to carve my heart out with.

Thinking and feeling and wishing hurts too much, and I slowly let myself fall into the nothingness that promises at least a whisper of respite from the pain of losing the only man I have ever truly loved.

* * *

><p><strong>Man oh man, just wait til you guys find out who's the her! And please do look closely at that night when she wakes up from her dreamnightmare. It's got some pretty important stuff, and I'm going to tie this confusion together in book 3 ;) Eeeeee, I can't wait to start it! By the way, so y'all know: book 3 is going to be called To Have And To Hold. And it doesn't mean what ya think it means! ;D**

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter! We're getting so very very close to the end of this story! :)**

**Until next chapter :)**


	27. Chapter 26

**Well, another chapter in a day, and I'm 800 words ahead for Camp NaNo! Life is beautiful! Especially when word counts are high XD Now to write some more...**

**Immense, endless, hot-fudge-and-whipped-cream covered thank yous to NymphadoraLupin98, Garideth, Alissiel, Evy201, and IsThatBloodInYourMustache for reviewing! You all make me so giggly-happy! Lovely and caramel-sauce-and-whipped-cream covered thank yous to all my readers, favoriters, and followers!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

I look up from asking MopMan how he got a spot on this ship for Caspian's quest to find the Seven Lords of Meditation - also known at the Seven Lords of Telmar - as the ship makes port with a jolt. Laurah's been acting very strange lately, but she turned away whenever I tried to get her to chit-chat about what was bugging her. So I'm guessing this is one of those times she needs to be left alone. She got those even before ever coming to Narnia. Cas just went to try and find her, since she wasn't in the dragon's mouth. Hey, maybe that can get fixed now that we're back, because a dragon head without its top half looks pretty strange.

"So MopMan, when you first got on board-" I stop suddenly as I hear Cas calling for Laurah. I'm very tempted to go see what's up, but maybe I shouldn't. Luckily, I don't have to hold my resolve for long, since Cas comes bolting towards me.

"Nikki, did you know?"

"Know what?" I can think of lots of things I happen to know, but I'm not sure to which of these he's referring. Hm, he does look a little frantic though.

"Did you know she would run off?"

Huh?

"Excuse me, know that who would run off?" If it's who I think it is...

"Laurah!" Cas almost yells her name, and from the desperate look in his eyes I know he's not kidding.

"She. WHAT?!" I shriek, thinking of a thousand different ways of throwing a banana cream pie in that crazy chica's face. "What happened?!"

"She just took off as soon as we made port. She hurried off into the crowd and ran towards the forest. I couldn't get her to come back."

Man he's really got to stop with the gutted-puppy look. It's making me want to cry, blast it all!

"Rest assured that I will kill her myself when we next see her," I growl, my fingers flexing and unflexing. I'm only half serious, but I will give that child a very good what-for. Count on it.

MopMan's hand links itself with mine, forcing me to stop making and unmaking fists with my fingers. I continue with the other hand, where he can't see.

"You Majesty, perhaps there is nothing to be done for now. Your people have gathered to celebrate your return; racing after her, besides being contrary to her unspoken wishes, could also taint this occasion."

Damn MopMan for thinking so diplomatically.

But Caspian nods, sets his jaw, and heads off to disembark from the _Dawn Treader_ to greet his people. MopMan tugs me along too, and we exit into the cheering crowd with the rest of the crew. Somewhere there's a band or orchestra or something playing happy, regal music, and still it's all I can do to just smile and wave.

Slowly, we make our way through the crowd, and I'm very much hoping we can go into the castle that's up the cliff. I'd like to scream into a nice, soft, fluffy pillow, and there seem to be a shortage of those at the moment. However, my patience must undergo the test today, because it takes several hours for us to actually get into the castle.

"Hey MopMan, what's the name of this place anyway?"

"This is Cair Paravel. King Caspian rebuilt it from its ruined state. ."

"Was that the castle the Telmarines totaled when they first dropped in?"

"The very same."

At long, long last, we're in. And not soon enough! I still want to scream into that pillow. Hey, there's a sofa...with a pillow. Before anyone can stop me, I dart over, grab that pillow, jam it up against my face, and scream long and loud into the fluffyness. Only when I've let loose a good four or five screams, I replace the throw pillow on the couch. Everyone's looking at me like I'm crazy, but my zen has been restored with that tiny little vent.

"What? Gotta let the frustration out somehow," I explain, shrugging innocently.

Caspian and MopMan both shake their heads slightly amusedly, and MopMan leaves to go to his family like the rest of the crew has already done. Lilliandil and I follow Caspian up to the library. At first I'm confused at to why we're in the library since I'm pretty sure there isn't a book entitled 'How To Effectively Smack Sense Into Crazy Chicas Who Run Away From Their One True Love/Soul Mate/Perfect Match,' but then I notice that one of the balconies looks out to the forest.

Caspian wanders over to said balcony with his shoulders slumped in the most gutting sort of way, and stares out at the woods, almost like he's expecting to somehow see Laurah amidst the trees.

"Do you think she might come back? Perhaps she only left for a little while..."

Poor dear Cas, he's clinging to hope by a thread. I'd really like to give him something reassurance that he's not hoping in vain, but that chica's been so unpredictable lately that I can't tell him she'll be back soon, not on good conscience anyway. And I can't lie and say she promised to come back. Jiminy Cricket would have a hissy fit, I'm sure.

"Your Majesty, perhaps she will, perhaps she will not. Perhaps it is best this way. Do remember that she has been through much in the past months. Time with her family could do her a world of good."

"Lilli does have a point, Cas," I chime in. "I'm sure she's fine. That chica is far too stubborn to be anything but fine, quite frankly."

Still, as Caspian gazes steadily out at the woods, I get that he's still worrying. Moreover, he's already missing her more than I miss white chocolate Reeces. Which is a lot.

* * *

><p><strong>Laurah POV:<strong>

I'm not sure how long I've been out, but I don't think I'm lying in the woods anymore. My eyes don't want to open, and I'm content to let them stay closed. What good does opening them do anyway?

"Laurah? Are you awake yet?"

I know that voice.

I open my eyes to see my sister, Ainslie, sitting beside me.

"Ainslie?"

"Yes, I'm here. Mother should be along shortly." She pauses, as if there's something else she wants to say. "It's good to see you. It's good to have you back, sister."

"Miss me?" My lips part in a joking smile, and I notice how dry they are.

"Very much. We all did, Mother especially. Here, drink this." Ainslie pushes a tea cup into my hand, and supports it when it almost slips through my fingers. I really shouldn't have skipped dinner back on the ship for almost a week.

Together, we tip the cup so a bit of the light green liquid spills into my mouth, and I make a hum of curiosity.

"What kind of tea is this?"

"Green tea, but with a little twist. Mother made it herself."

Just at the mention of Mother, she sweeps through the door and rushes to my side. Ainslie stands to let her sit on the bed next to me.

"Laurah, daughter, how are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a herd of antelope. But the tea helped." I try not to think about Caspian - King Caspian - even though I know it's most likely useless.

"Rest will help more. I am glad to have my second daughter back." My mother leans forward and brushes my hair from my forehead, and it feels so very wonderful to have a mother.

I try to sit up so I can give her a hug, but my head pounds when I do. My mother gently pushes me back down, kisses the top of my forehead, and promises to be here when I wake up. Just like that, I'm out again.

I'm in and out of consciousness for what feels like years, but can't be more than a few days. Every time I wake, my mother and my sister are there, one on each side of me, and my mother gives me the tea and my sister gives me a broth made from flower petals. Apparently, it's supposed to help clear one's head. Surprisingly, it works.

The next time I wake up, I'm alone and a dress is laid out for me across the back of a chair. I guess this means I'm off bed-rest orders, and I'm relieved. One can get a very sore back and a sore bum from laying in bed too long. I'm happy to change out of the nightdress I've been in for several days, and I'm about to slip the light silver dress on when I notice an open door. Upon further inspection, I find the door leads to a washroom, and a tub of warm water waits for me. I'm glad it's not hot; I've never been fond of scalding water to clean myself with. Scalding water belongs in teapots and coffeemakers, not bathtubs or showers.

I happily step in, and the feeling of getting squeaky clean is enough to plaster a huge grin on my face. I think they washed me when they first found me, because there isn't any forest dirt lingering on my skin. It feels glorious to take a long bath, and I make good use of the many fragrant flower blooms provided. The blossoms float in the water as I relax, and I emerge with the scent of lilies still clinging to my skin.

Slipping into the dress quickly, I'm pleased to find that it fits me perfectly. It must be one of my ones from my first time in Narnia. The silvery fabric is light and breathable, and swishes delicately when I walk. This must have been one of my favorites; if not, it definitely is now.

I'm happy when I exit my room, because while it's quite wonderful in there, I'd very much like to refresh my memory of the rest of the palace. It's good to be home.

While I'm roaming the halls and nodding my hellos to the sprites that greet me enthusiastically, I find my sister. Ainslie beckons me over to the balcony she's standing at, and we lean against the ivy-covered marble railing side-by-side. It's good to have a sister again, too.

"Are you ready to talk of it yet?"

"My reason for taking off so suddenly, or where I've been since coming into Narnia?"

"Everything," she replies, curiosity and concern mingled on her gentle features.

"Well, I guess I'll start from my leaving then. You know how I used to get visions?" At her nod, I continue, "I had one of my human father dying every night for a week. On the last night, I dreamed of my human mother taking her life. I went into a sort of frenzy, and I think Mother helped me get back to the human world."

At my pause, Ainslie lays a comforting hand on my shoulder, sensing that this next part isn't all that easy for me to talk about. I'm tempted to put it bluntly, but my conversation with Caspian - King Caspian - when I told him about it flashes through my mind, and I don't pretend it's nothing after all.

"Well, I went back with a mind to save them both. I only saved one. My father seemed like he would be okay, but then...he snapped one night, and I tried to get some sense back into him. He, literally actually, tossed me aside and stormed out. The next day, a police officer came to my front door and told me and my mom that he died in a drunk driving accident. Mom almost lost it, but eventually she was okay. I think in the end it was better that he died, because without him there to put her down, she could be happy again. It took a year, but it was worth it. I actually think she handled the whole thing better than I did. I still feel guilty about it...I still feel like it's my fault he died. I still feel like I failed." My voice catches on the last bit, and I bite back the temptation to just cry. I don't stop a few tears from quietly trickling down my face though.

Ainslie pats my shoulder, and that helps the tears stop. I've got another family here, and it's a beautiful one. Then, I realize that I know nothing about my sprite father.

"Ainslie, who is our father?"

"He died a long time ago, during the battle against the White Witch. He was fighting with the Narnians."

"Oh" is all I can manage.

"And your human mother was alright?"

I refocus on telling my tale. "Yes, she was - is."

"And how did you come back to Narnia? Where have you been?" In her second question, I can hear just how much Ainslie really missed me.

"I just had a vision about coming back, and then one night the same golden light that brought me to Narnia the first time was around my basement door. Obviously, I went through. Though actually, one of my best friends came with me: Nikki. She sort of jumped in at the last minute, but I was so happy she did. But, somehow, we got separated on the way. I was torn away from her, and she ended up on King Caspian's ship. I ended up somewhere everyone called Dark Island. And, well..."

"Go on," urges Ainslie in her gentle way.

"There was an awful mist there, and it showed me all these things I didn't want to see. I can't remember all of it, but I know it invaded my head and trickled out slowly at first. It still showed me things when it was done though."

"What kinds of things?"

"Old visions, mostly. I think what really did me in was when it showed me my human parents' ghosts. But I'm fairly certain my human mother is still alive, so it must have been just a nightmare or an apparition or something along those lines. Put simply, it drove me out of my mind and then some. King Caspian and his crew found me when they went into Dark Island, on a quest to find the last Lord of Telmar I think. Nikki was there, and she helped me a lot until we got to Coriakin's Island. King Caspian did too. Anyway, Coriakin's a magician, and apparently I was still...'possessed' if you will, by the mist when we got there. He got it out, but he and everyone else said the mist had stolen some memories from me, and he couldn't get them back because they simply weren't in my head anymore. Snatched right out, apparently. From there we dropped off the Lone Islanders back home and then we got to mainland Narnia. The whole trip took months."

"How did you end up in the woods, alone and unconscious?"

"Well...I...I guess I paid the price for my heart. I learned what it feels like to love a king. Moreover, I figured out that I wasn't the best person for him. I had a dream about that. Actually, I couldn't tell if it was a dream or vision. Still, the point stood. And so I left, and I cried myself to sleep in the woods. I wanted to find you and Mother and the sprites."

"And now you have. Are you happy, sister?" Ainslie seems to be hoping I am, but she also seems to suspect I'm not.

"I am. I'm happy to be home."

I have to give my sister a hug then, because I want to reassure her that I mean that. She seems to appreciate the gesture. More importantly, she believes me.

"Oh, and where is Mother? I've got something I'd like to ask her about, from Dark Island." I remember her singing to me through the bracelet, and getting rid of the snake the first time it struck.

"She's waiting for us in the dining room. You need to eat a big dinner, sister," Ainslie notes bemusedly, poking me gently in my all-too-visible ribs.

"No argument there," I laugh as we link arms and meander our way there. I keep getting us off track for some room or hallway I want to see. I've missed this place more than I realized.

"Ah daughters, there you are. I was beginning to wonder if you'd lost your way," Mother trills, sweeping toward us to engulf us both in a warm and welcoming hug.

"Sorry, I just had to see as much of the palace as I could. I've missed it a lot," I apologize, knowing she'll be so happy to hear that. Mother always bristles with pride when I talk about how much I love the sprites and our ways and our palace.

Sure enough, Mother smiles as bright as the sun and ushers Ainslie and me to our seats at the small table. That's one thing I've always appreciated about my family: when we sit down for a meal, it's a small and private thing. It makes it feel so much more special, rather than a routine or ritual to be practiced and observed each day.

"Oh, Mother, may I ask you something?"

"You may ask me anything, daughter."

"When I was in Dark Island, my bracelet glowed and I could hear you singing, and you comforted me. Was that really you? Or did I only imagine it?"

"I could sense you were in trouble, and I did what little I could. It was lucky for you that your bracelet holds magic in it, otherwise I'd never have been able to help at all."

"Also, when King Caspian's crew pulled me on board, there was a snake in my head, and a warm golden light chased it away. Was that you too?"

"Yes. I gathered magic for days to send it to you when you needed it most."

Unexpected tears prick at my eyes, and I hurriedly stand from my chair and rush over to fling my arms around Mother in a heartfelt embrace.

"Thank you," I whisper, hoping she can hear how much I mean that, because I'm too choked up to say it as many times as I want to.

Her cheek rests on my hair, and she whispers back, the same depth in her voice, "You are welcome. I could not sit idly by and feel my daughter suffer so."

After a long moment, we both release from the hug, and return to our places. Dinner follows, and I rediscover how wonderful salad can be, when it's made by sprites. I almost forgot how certain flower petals can make a salad taste so good. I try not to think about dinners on the _Dawn Treader _when I could feel Caspian's eyes on me. King Caspian's eyes, that is.

* * *

><p>The next day, I feel stronger than I've felt in months. Upon my insistence, Ainslie takes me to the practice grounds, and I'm told that my sais are most likely still at the Telmarine castle. That's where I left them last, after all. But Ainslie and I find me a pair that suits me well enough, and then we're off. Ainslie is a fair swordswoman herself, and so she agrees to spar with me. I tell her not to go easy on me, but as it's my first time picking up sais in a long time, I'm fairly certain she won't.<p>

Unfortunately, I'm right.

She really does take it easy on me, and I spend the first spar simply refamiliarizing myself with sais and sparring and everything connected to that. Luckily, my muscles remember better than my brain, and soon Ainslie isn't holding back anymore. It's nice to spar again, and it's even nicer to be able to do so with my sister. We tie at first, and then I start to win each fight. By the time noon rolls around, we're both sweaty and happy and relieved. I think we were both a little afraid I'd lost my talent for sword fighting, but it seems it takes more to mute a sprite's gift than a little trip to insanity and back.

"Come on, sister. We'd best get some lunch in you." Ainslie's made it her personal goal to get me out of my too-bony state, and three well-sized meals a day are her strategy.

"Nothing too big I hope, else I'm likely to pop at the seams!" I laugh. Last night's dinner was almost too much for me, and Mother and Ainslie almost had to roll me to bed. But at least it tasted good going down!

"Sister, the bigger threat is your bones popping from your skin," she answers wryly, plucking at the dress that hangs on me the slightest bit, because I don't have a lot of curves to hold it up.

"Very well then," I sigh, knowing she's got a good point. "To a surely over-sized lunch it is!"

And over-sized it is indeed! It's the first time I've ever had a three course lunch. I'd thought to continue training and practicing after we ate, but after lunch I'm very much rethinking that idea. Mother laughs as I voice this dry observation, and assures me that this is for my own good. I have to laugh, and she and Ainslie join me. Mother, unfortunately, has to hurry off after lunch, but Ainslie promises to talk with me on the comfortable sofa in the daisy-themed sun room that's my favorite until my meal settles in my full-to-bursting stomach.

"Forgive my curiosity, but I couldn't help but notice the look in your eye when you mentioned King Caspian."

Why did she have to choose him as our conversation topic?

"So I fell in love with him. Oh well; I'm still figuring out how to fall out of love."

"Oh sister, do you remember nothing of him?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't." Maybe Ainslie can tell me what I can't remember.

"Well perhaps that explains some things. Would you like to hear as much as I know?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I don't want to fall in love with the man again."

"Sister, you are already in love with him," she sighs, clearly saddened by my determination.

"Then let's make sure I don't fall any more in love with the king of Narnia then, shall we?" I say this as gently as possible, so it doesn't come off as harsh or meanly sarcastic.

"What was this dream of yours, that convinced you to completely to leave him?"

"I...must I talk of it?"

"No, forgive me."

"It's alright."

A pause follows, and I suddenly feel quite guilty for keeping my dream or vision to myself. Ainslie is my sister; I can share anything with her.

"I'm sorry Ainslie, I just do that automatically when I think about the king. I close off. I'll tell you, it's fine."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. We are sisters, are we not?"

She smiles at that, and I return the happy gesture before beginning.

"Well, it was maybe a week before we made port. I had just fallen asleep, and I saw him walking toward me. At least, it looked like he was coming to me at first. But just as I went to embrace him, he walked past me. I turned around, and I saw him laughing with...well, a girl. I can't say who she was right now, it's just too fresh. But anyway, they were laughing together, and they just looked so happy. He looked happy without a care in the world, as opposed to the cautious happy he sometimes was with me. I saw the difference, and I just kind of understood that I've caused him too much pain to be with him. She can make him laugh and smile, and yet she gives wonderful advice too. She's just...a better fit for him than I am. I hope that makes sense."

"It does, and I'm sorry for it. I won't tell you that you made the wrong decision, I will only say I hope you do not come to regret leaving him."

"I already do, but it's not enough to change my mind."

* * *

><p><strong>Oooo, we are sooooo close to the end! Seriously, one chapter left...Is anyone ready for the epilogue? Teeheehee I am! :D<strong>

**Let me know how this chapter was, especially since it came out shorter than I wanted :]**

**Until the epilogue! :)**


	28. Epilogue

**And here we are, at the last chapter of this story! Well, technically the last chapter was yesterday's post, but this is the last thing I'll post on this story. Bittersweet, but more relieving than anything else. I've had this story hanging over my head for far too long XD**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: This isn't the end of this series! :D The third story will be titled To Have And To Hold, if you didn't know that already ;) I'm writing it now for Camp NaNo, and I'll post the first chapter when I've finished the story. So THATH won't be out for a month or so, but once it's uploaded it'll be updated regularly ;)**

**Huge thank yous to Alissiel, Garideth, and Evy201 for reviewing! Thank yous to all my readers, followers, and favoriters too! I couldn't have finished this story with all y'all's support! :D**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

**Nikki POV:**

After a week, one might think that Caspian and I would be resigned to Laurah's flight. One might think we'd go about life as usual, and learn to cross our fingers and hope for the best. Needless to say, neither of us came even close to this ideal. Poor Cas worried a bit more every day, and I contemplated asking for drugs. Sarcastically, of course. Mostly. I think we can thank Lilliandil for keeping us from destroying half of the newly-rebuilt Cair Paravel. She made sure Caspian had a sparring partner when he hit his low points, and she listened patiently to my screaming and hollering when my exasperation hit pandemic proportions.

All in all, only two vases, a plate, and a doorknob were broken over the week.

One particularly bad day, Caspian and I both start pacing in the library, and Lilliandil sits and watches, waiting for either of us to say something so she can soothe our undoubtedly harsh words. I'm grumbling and muttering to myself about the possibility of Laurah having gotten a few doses of LSD or something via evil mist injection, and Caspian's just walking back and forth silently, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed. After a few minutes, he goes and sits at a desk next to the balcony overlooking the forest. A breeze blows in through the open doors, and he closes his eyes for a moment before resting his elbows on the desk and burying his face in his hands.

I stop pacing and stand on the other side of the open balcony doors. I resist the urge to throw a chair out the window on my other side. Funny thing is, I actually thought Cas and I were getting through to her, there at the end. And no goodbyes, not even a wave.

"Perhaps she never loved me after all."

I glance over at the very defeated-looking king with his head in his hands, and I remember that he's feeling even worse about this than I am.

"Not true. I think she was starting to. She's just messed up in the head from the mist crap and whatnot." Maybe that's why I'm so ticked. I really think that chica was falling in love with him again. And the she had to go all mental and amscray off into the forest.

Caspian doesn't respond, and I know he's doubting what I said. I look to Lilliandil for help.

"Perhaps you remember one night when you both swam to Dragon Isle?" At Caspian's nod, the star continues, "Do you think it plausible that Laurah left to seek out the sprite responsible for Dark Island's mischief?"

Damn, that never occurred to me before. But it makes a heck of a lot of sense.

Caspian's head lifts from his hands the slightest bit. "No, I suppose I'd not thought of that."

"Actually Cas, that makes a lot of sense! It might not have been you at all!" I gesticulate wildly in my excitement, relief flooding me down to my toes. Laurah did mention wanting to figure that out, now that I think about it.

"And if it was?" His head returns to his hands. "I could have helped her. Why did she not allow me to do so?"

"She began to, Your Majesty. Did you not share your pasts with each other?"

"Yes. Yet she ran." He lifts his head to stare out at the forest. "It seems she is always running."

"Well at least she might be running toward something else, rather than strictly from you," I point out, already forgiving my best friend for running off, if her reason was to take down that baddie sprite.

A long silence follows, and I can't help but think that none of this has really helped poor Caspian very much at all. He looks every bit as dejected as before, and keeps glancing out at the forest every few minutes. I wonder, when was the last time he laughed? He seems to be a very serious sort of fellow, from what I've seen in the past 8 or 9 or 10 or so months. I remember Laurah telling me how much she liked making him laugh, back when she first told me about her adventures in Narnia. I get an idea, and I'm really hoping it'll work.

"Hey Cas, how was Laurah at archery?"

He looks up confusedly, but he humors me.

"Awful." As he says that, the slightest of smiles tug at his face.

"And didn't she almost take your head off once? How exactly did that happen again?" Already, I can feel the mood lightening.

"It was almost four years ago, Nikki."

"Do your best then."

Cas sighs, clearly unable to muster the will to argue any further.

"It was a few days after we arrived at Aslan's How."

"And who is we?" I interject, not willing to let him skimp on the smallest detail. For this to have the desired effect, he needs to practically relive the whole thing.

"The Narnians, the King and Queens of Old, Laurah and myself. She was attempting to learn archery with some of the Narnians under Queen Susan's direction. I happened upon the scene when she was frustrated with her distinct lack of progress."

That smile that was teasing at his face before is starting to bloom, and his eyes are getting a bit of their youthful light back.

"The scene was rather amusing, so I stood a little ways off and watched it unfold. Eventually, Laurah was able to loose the arrow from the string successfully, though she never could hit the target. It seemed that though her skill with the sword was incredible, her skill with the bow was something rather short of impressive."

Ah, there we go! A smile has finally found its way onto his serious face after all.

"After many, many misfired arrows embedded into the surrounding trees, one found its way to the one I stood near. It was good I was watching, else that wayward arrow could perhaps have shortened my hair."

A chuckle works its way past his now-grinning lips, and his eyes have adopted a fond and faraway look.

"I suppose I could have been angry, but I was far too diverted to think of it. Her expression of shocked horror that stood frozen on her face did little to lessen my amusement. I'm afraid I could not help laughing, and at my approach she made sure to threaten me that if I did not cease my laughter, she would hit me with an arrow on purpose. Unfortunately, we both knew she could do no such thing even if she tried, and therefore her threat fell on deaf and bemused ears."

I'm more than pleased to note that our serious king is now laughing freely at the memory, and I make a mental note to pat myself on the back for this brilliant idea later. Lilliandil shoots me an approving look, and I press Cas to finish his story.

"And what happened then?" I'm laughing now too, actually.

"Well..." Caspian's ears turn the slightest tinge of pink, a change I raise my eyebrows amusedly at. "I...proceeded to correct her stance."

I wait expectantly, and I'm not disappointed.

"Perhaps it crossed my mind to steal a kiss, but Peter interrupted at the last minute." His ears are clearly red now, and it's easy to see that while he's certainly kissed Laurah before, he's never really talked about it.

"Mission accomplished," I murmur to myself, grinning at my success.

Caspian's eyes are all lit up from telling that amusing memory, and I think I can see a new spark of determination that wasn't there before.

"Perhaps if she left simply to look for the sprite we saw at Dragon Isle, your theory is correct, Nikki."

His eyes catch mine, and I instantly remember our silent promise to each other way back before the battle at Dark Island. It seems he does too, and he walks to the open balcony doors to stand at the side opposite me.

"And what will you do?" Lilliandil asks us, though I suspect she knows the answer.

Caspian and I look at each other, then out at the forest, and we give our answer in unison.

"Find her."

**The End (To Be Continued...)**

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><p><strong>Is anyone else SUPER excited for the third book? Haha I know I am! I could marry my outlines, I love the plot bunnies so much! XD<strong>

**Thank you soooooo so much for all the support I got for this story! What a wonderful way to get started as a writer! Love always to everyone who's ever reviewed, favorited, followed, or read my stories!**

**On that note, let me know what you thought of this epilogue! I hope the last line wasn't TOO big of a cliffie...oh who am I kidding, I wanted it to be a cliffy! XD**

**Until THATH, my lovely readers ;D**


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